Stars Of Our Lives: Part I
by S0ins0
Summary: Aja and Krel had a golden childhood. Loving parents, old family friends as caretakers, and endless amounts of trouble to get away with. But that all vanished in a single day, the day IAAN became known in their household. With newfound, terrifying abilities, the siblings are thrown into an unforgiving world, but they can do anything as long as they're together, right?
1. 1

**(A/N): in case it wasn't clear, this is an AU for the Darkest Minds series by Alexandra Bracken. The vast majority of the lore in this story isn't mine, but this alteration of the plot is. Enjoy!**

**Sometimes I Feel I've Got To [LAW & ORDER] Runaway**

Grace Somerfield was the first to die.

Frickin Grace.

She had been sitting on top of one of the lunch tables, preaching to anybody that would listen about the fly in her milk. When she'd shown Krel and I, we'd both agreed it was just a raisin she'd dropped in there herself. It was turning into an actual debate, with her friends on her side and basically everyone else at the table on ours.

She was in the middle her rebuttal when her entire body froze up, cutting her off mid sentence. She made little gasping sounds, like she was trying to breathe. Then her eyes rolled back and she collapsed. I was so close to her when it happened, I had to step to the side to avoid her falling on me.

She lay crumpled against the tiles, perfectly still. Lunch ladies and parent volunteers gathered around us, along with every kid that was at the table. It wasn't until I nudged her arm with my foot that anybody realized she was dead.

That's how the Psi disease started. Just one death. A little spark. Then a few more. A small fire. Then the entire fourth grade. And it consumed everything in its path.

Every night, the casualty number they showed on the news only got higher. But that was less than half of the real deaths. Neighbors, friends, people we used to pass on the street, burying their children the next day. I always knew death was real, but it's different when it takes kids in your grade. When you know you could be next.

Then the rumors started. Stories of those that could survive the disease had somehow developed . . . abilities. Mama and Papa tried to shield us best they could, telling us it was all just propaganda. But that was difficult, especially with life on the base.

Our school was the first to show mandatory broadcasts, telling us all about the roles of the PSF officers. How they were to find the "disabled and corrupted" children that survived the disease and take them away for "rehabilitation".

Our school was also the first to air the inauguration of General Morando. I guess it was President Morando after that. It wasn't done normally, with a campaign and people voting. It was done quickly, Morando being chosen by members of the cabinet and other officials.

'For the good of the people', the interviewer had said. 'In times of crisis, efficiency is key'.

And Morando sure was efficient.

Any kids who were still alive at that point were being looked at, including me and Krel. Mama and Papa stayed up for nights at a time, talking quietly between each other. I don't really know if I understood what it meant back then. If I understood what happened to the kids that were taken. It didn't feel real. The President wouldn't _really_ take a child from their parents. No one would.

Akiridion-5 Base had become a sort of safe haven by that time. Anyone with the necessary connections was moving in, and everyone else was making room. Psi had nearly wiped out my entire grade, not to mention Krel's. But suddenly, our school was chock full again. A new kid almost everyday. I didn't know the camps they were trying to avoid yet. I don't know if they did either.

It got so crowded, people started forcing any childless soldiers out to make room for families. Even those who had children were sent away, as long as they had somewhere else to go. Mama and Papa got to stay though, Papa being Sergeant Major over the Marine Corps and Mama being an ambassador - formerly a Commander. They were the definition of 'dream team', the power couple of the marines. And me and Krel were heirs to their legacy.

That had never sat well with me. I was a military baby, raised on Akiridion-5 Base my whole life, but I'd never wanted anything to do with it. It's what everyone expected of me, it's what my last name stood for. But it was also strict. Rules. Deadlines. Repetitive day in and day out. Following orders. It was something I couldn't be.

So I ran from it. Literally.

My parents practically owned the base, so I knew every inch of it. I guess that's why it was so easy to sneak off of it. I'd just skateboard along the streets, the playlist that Krel had put together for me blaring in my ears.

I never made it more than two days before Mama and Papa would finally track me down. The first few times they came to get me themselves. After the third time, they started sending Zadra, our over-glorified drill sergeant of a babysitter.

It was just as the base was getting crowded, talks of rehabilitation camps, of PSFs forcefully coming to the schools were on every street corner. I woke up that morning knowing that today, I didn't want to be Aja Tarron. I just wanted to be normal. So I took off, skateboard under my arm and buds in my ears.

Zadra found me within six hours.

When she did, she was furious. She screamed at me from the driver's seat the whole way back. Yes, she was a drill sergeant if there ever was one. But this was different. This was tears in her eyes and salt raking at her voice. She wasn't angry. She was afraid.

It wasn't until we came to the front gates that I realized why. I watched the PSF vans drive past us, full of small bodies and tall officers. And my heart had stopped.

When I got back to our home, Mama and Papa's look matched Zadra. Krel was sitting on the couch, fiddling with the puzzle box Papa had gotten him for his eleventh birthday a week ago.

"Do you know what happened today, Aja?" Mama's voice was tight.

I shook my head.

"A Collection," Papa said. "PSFs came, and they took every child that showed up at school today."

My eyes went to Krel, but he didn't look up from his puzzle box.

"But the base said they couldn't -"

"They surpassed our jurisdiction," Mama said. "Do you have any idea what would've happened had Zadra not found you first?"

That's when the fight started. We were all just scared and sad, and none of us knew how to say it. So we shouted and we screamed and Krel just sat there fiddling with his puzzle. I stomped up the stairs once I'd finally had enough, slamming my bedroom door behind me. My chest was tight and hot with anger. I paced back and forth several times, fuming.

Psi wasn't my fault. So why was it sucking all my freedom away?

Like I had any clue back then.

Eventually, my anger drained my energy, and I passed out on my bed. When I opened my eyes again, it was in the middle of the night. My room was dark, but the hall light was on. I heard Mama and Papa's footsteps coming, then I heard Krel's door open. I heard muffled, quiet voices, speaking slowly and softly.

Was Krel in trouble too? After what I'd pulled today, I found it doubtful.

Then his door closed and the footsteps approached mine.

I dropped my head back onto the pillow, turning towards the wall and closing my eyes. I wasn't ready to revisit our fight. Maybe in the morning, but not now. My door opened all the same, Mama and Papa slowly creeping in. I felt them come to my bedside, kneeling over me.

I almost turned around, wondering why they'd decided to check on me at this hour, but then the quiet sob came from Mama's throat. Every part of me went stiff, but my eyes stayed closed as I listened to her soft cries. As I felt her tears drop into my hair.

"Dear God," She said, her voice so very broken. "Please protect our daughter."

They were praying. Over me. I'd never seen them pray over anything before.

"Please protect her free spirit and her strength. Protect her good heart and her gentle soul. But most of all," Mama said. "Please protect her life - her sweet, innocent life."

"Let her find the freedom she seeks," Papa's voice was just as raw. "Let her know how we love her, and we always will, no matter where she goes. Let her know her potential as a leader. Let her know her family will never forget her."

"Please," Mama gently smoothed her hand over my hair. "Give her the strength to survive whatever path her life takes. Give her the strength to be the warrior we know she is."

They were quiet for a moment, Mama smoothing her hand over my hair as they both wept. A part of me wanted to cry with them, but I was frozen in place.

"I love you, Aja," Mama whispered to me.

"Star of our lives," Papa said.

Her lips pressed against my hairline, Papa's too. Then my head exploded with pain. It was like someone had suddenly taken a jackhammer to my skull. I couldn't move if I wanted to. I couldn't even breathe.

I felt my eyelids flutter. I felt Mama shift back, thinking I may wake up. Then it all faded away.

The next morning, I woke up in a daze. My head was still throbbing, by far the worst migraine I'd ever had. My nose, mouth, and everything in between was crusty with blood, making me think I must've had a nose bleed in my sleep.

It took more energy than I expected to get up, the ground swaying beneath me as I walked into my bathroom. I scrubbed my face clean and washed out my mouth with Listerine, hoping that would be enough to get rid of the taste. I stumbled down the stairs, the grogginess suddenly turning to nausea. Why did I feel so crappy? I hadn't gotten sick since I was seven, and I wasn't ready to break that record.

Mama was sitting at the table, her back to me while she sipped her coffee.

"Mama?" I said. "My head hurts -"

She screamed. As in, she actually screamed, jumping around and nearly knocking her chair over in the process. I jumped too, several steps back and whipping around, thinking there was an intruder behind me. But no one was there.

"Oh," Mama sighed, putting a hand over her chest. "Oh, honey, you scared me."

I cringed. Mama had never called me 'honey' before. I watched her regain her composure, straightening her shoulders and lifting her chin. The posture she used was she was Madam Ambassador Tarron, not when she was my mama.

"Can you tell me how you got in here?"

I stared at her for a moment, waiting for her to say something else.

"How did you get in here?" Her voice raised this time, snapping like a whip. She only talked like that during debates.

I flinched, stepping back again. "Um . . ." I raised a shaky finger towards the stairs. I didn't know what else she wanted me to say.

Her eyes became scrutinizing. "Did you climb through my son's window?"

Her son?

"What?" I stepped back again. "No, I didn't - I didn't climb through a window."

"Then how did you enter this housing?" She shouted.

I shrank back, fear rising in my chest. "Mama, what are you -"

"I'm not your mother."

She might as well have slapped me across the face. Maybe punched me in the stomach too.

"Is this because I ran away yesterday?" Tears began gathering in my eyes. "I'm sorry, Mama. I'm sorry I fought with you, I promise I'll -"

"I am not your mother," She snapped. "Stop addressing me as so, it will gain you no sympathy."

"I - I don't understand," The tears stung against my cheeks. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I'll be better I promise -"

"Who is this?"

I whipped my head towards the stairs to see Papa, staring at me as though I were a perfect stranger.

"She snuck in somehow," Mama said. "Her parents must be somewhere on the base for her to have gotten past clearance."

"What are you talking about?" I cried. "You _are_ my parents!"

"Miss, please," Papa said, his voice strict and cold. "Give us the ID number you used to get into this vicinity. Did you get it from a relative? Do they live near here?"

I shook my head. "I don't - I - what did I do wrong?"

"Guys?" Krel appeared at the top of the stairs, bedhead and all, squinting at us. "What's going on?"

"Krel, do you know this girl?" Mama asked. "Does she go to school with you?"

He stared at them, eyes wide and brows drawn in confusion. Then he looked at me, and for one horrible moment, I thought he wouldn't know me either.

"Aja, what are they talking about?"

I looked at them, backing up even more. "I don't -"

"Krel," Papa went to the stair banister. "Go back to your room. We'll handle this."

"Handle what?" Krel looked back and forth between them and me. "What did you do?"

"I don't know!" I sobbed.

"Did you let your friend in?" Mama asked.

"She's not my friend," He said it like it was obvious. "She's my sister."

"Krel," Papa almost laughed. "You don't have a sister."

The words were like a knife in my chest.

"Yes, I do," He said. "She's right there. As in, three feet _that_ way."

Mama's eyes flared. "You think this is funny, Krel? You think you can prank us with your friend? After what happened yesterday?"

"_What_?" Krel's eyes nearly bugged out of his head. "If anyone's pulling a joke, it's you! And by the way, I don't think Aja finds it funny!"

"That girl is not our daughter!" Papa shouted.

"She looks just like you!"

He was right. I'd always looked just like Papa. With Mama's dark complexion, everyone was expecting their first baby to be shaded to match. But I came out as pale as my Papa, blonde and blue eyed. Instead, it was Krel that had inherited her deep skin tone. Mama used to joke that I'd be a good gambler since I did so well against astronomical odds.

But she wasn't joking now.

"Don't be ridiculous -"

"That's it," Krel fished his phone out of his pocket. "I'm calling Zadra."

Papa ripped the phone away from him. "There is no need to bother her with a matter we can handle ourselves."

"Hey!"

"No," I said, grabbing my own phone. "I'll call her."

Mama scoffed. "You couldn't possibly have the contact of -"

"Aja?" Zadra's voice came through the speaker.

"Zadra?" I choked. "I think you need to come."

Mama whipped her head towards Krel. "Did you give this girl Zadra's contact?"

"No!" Krel shouted. "You did! Three years ago!"

"What is going on?" Zadra asked.

"It's Mama and Papa, hear for yourself." And I clicked the speakerphone button.

"Miss," Papa yelled. "I command you to end that phone call."

"Zadra!" Mama snapped. "Please inform me _why_ you answered an unknown number?"

"They're acting like they don't know Aja!" Krel shouted from the stairs.

"Zadra, a young girl has broken into our housing. We would like you to come and remove her from the premises."

Zadra didn't say anything for a long time.

"Aja?" She asked.

"Yes?"

"Stay with Krel. Whatever they say, don't leave the house. I'll be there in ten minutes."

She hung up.

I spent those ten, miserable minutes sitting on the couch, clutching my phone while Krel argued with Mama and Papa. They continued insisting he go back to his room and he continued insisting I was his big sister.

"How do you not remember her?" He shouted, tears in his eyes. "She's right there!"

"This is ridiculous," Papa muttered. He finally turned away from Krel, approaching me from the hall. He didn't say anything to me, instead, he grabbed me by my arm and hoisted me up. "I'll just take her down to the station," He said. "Maybe somebody can ID her there."

"No!" I struggled back, digging my heels into the floor. "No, I'm not supposed to leave!"

But Papa just tightened his grip, twisting my arm in a way that made pain shoot up into my shoulder. I let out a small cry, desperately prying at his fingers. It reminded me of the way I'd seen him drag people away before. People that were bad. People he didn't know.

That hurt worse than anything.

Suddenly, Krel was holding onto my spare arm, yanking me back. "You can't do that!" He shouted. "You can't just take her away!"

"Krel," Papa's tone had a warning in it. "Get away from the girl."

"No!" He screamed back. "What's wrong with you? How can you be this cruel?"

Papa pulled me forward several steps. "As your father, I command you let go of your friend."

"And as your son," Krel ripped me back. "I'm telling you I'm not gonna!"

It turned into a screaming match after that, Krel and Papa playing tug of war with me. Mama had finally managed to pry Krel's hands off my arm when Zadra came bursting through the front door, Varvatos on her heels. We all froze, Papa pinning both my wrists behind my back and Mama holding Krel in a bear hug to keep him from me.

The two of them took in the situation with a single look, then they bolted towards us. Zadra didn't bother asking Papa to release me, she just grabbed me by my shoulders and ripped me forward into her arms. All Varvatos had to do was reach for Krel and he, quite literally, bucked himself out of Mama's hold.

They pulled the two of us back from our parents, into the hallway in front of the door. Varvatos then rounded us to try and calm our parents down, his hands held out to pacify.

"Are you hurt?" Zadra asked me.

"What did I do wrong?" I sobbed. It was the only thing I could think. Just on repeat in my head. "What - what did I do?"

"You didn't do anything, Aja," She said. "It's gonna be okay."

"Under control?" Mama's voice suddenly cut through Zadra's, making me turn to see her. Her eyes were wide and angry as she did her best to tower over Varvatos. "Choose your words carefully, Vex. Do you forget with whom you are speaking?"

"Zadra," Papa snapped, seeing that he had our attention again. "Would you please remove this young woman from the premises? This is becoming absurd!"

"No!" Krel shrieked, latching onto my arm again.

"She's fine where she is now," Zadra replied, her voice carefully even. "She has stolen nothing. Defaced no property. And harmed no one."

"She has broken into our housing," Papa's voice boomed, the voice he used to yell at his soldiers. "I will not tolerate it a second longer!"

"Fialkov," Zadra stood, her eyes burning. "I do not care if you fire me for this, but with all due respect, _shut up_."

Papa was stunned.

"What did I do to them?" I buried my face in my hands, agony twisting in my insides. "I know I did something. I know, I know, I know -"

"Aja, listen to me," Zadra dropped back to her knees, putting one hand on my shoulder and one hand on Krel's. "Both of you, listen. This is what you are going to do. You are going to go outside, get into Varvatos's car, and get under the seats. Can you do that?"

". . . What?" Krel gripped me tighter. "Why?"

"The two of you are going to go traveling -"

"How dare you speak to my son like that!" Mama shouted.

"Coranda, please," Varvatos continued. "You must understand what's happening is all the more reason -"

"How dare you speak to _me_ like that!"

"What do you mean traveling?" Krel asked, making me turn away from the screaming match behind us.

"This has been the plan for some time now," Zadra said. "The two of you are going out west, to California."

"You mean like a school trip?"

"Exactly like that," Zadra smiled at him. "A trip out west, just for a few weeks. You've always wanted to travel, haven't you, Aja?"

I had always wanted to travel. Used to go on and on about all the places I would see. But right then and there, all I could do was shake my head. I couldn't leave Mama and Papa. Not like this.

"I told you, everything's going to be okay -"

"Stop doing that!" I screamed. "Stop pretending everything's okay! It's not! What's happening to me?"

The soft look she had pulled over her face fell, and she just looked sad. Heavy. Maybe even a little scared. But when she spoke, it wasn't to us.

"Varvatos," She looked at him over my shoulder. "Get them in the car. Now."

Krel and I both burst into sobs at her words, shaking our heads and clinging to each other as we begged to stay. It's funny, really. Before that day, I would've given anything to get off the base. But when the time came, all I wanted was my home. It was all I knew, I realized.

But it didn't know me anymore.

Varvatos and Zadra traded places, Mama and Papa now near hysterics. "I forbid you to take my son!" Papa roared. "You lay one finger on him and I will make you regret it!"

Zadra herded them back towards the kitchen, spouting something about the 'lucky number thirteen' and how if the two of them could calm down for five minutes she could explain what was happening.

Varvatos pushed us towards the door as soon as they were distracted enough, Krel and I separating to push him back. But no matter how deep we dug in our heels, how hard we cried, or how loud we screamed, Varvatos wasn't going to let us go. I could see it in his eyes.

With one move, he scooped me off the ground and hung me over his shoulder, dragging Krel behind us by his elbow. I screamed and kicked, pounding my fists against his back. Krel tore at Varvatos's hand, begging and pleading to just _talk_ to our parents. To walk the ten feet back to them.

We had known Varvatos our whole lives. He had Mama's old job as a Commander, and Papa had known him since before I was born. Growing up, Varvatos had always been there. He was the one who taught me to skate. The one who helped Krel with his homework. But that didn't make it any easier to be lowered into the back of his car beside my brother.

We sniffled and cried, ducking beneath the seats the way Varvatos had told us. I remember turning around as much as I could, craning my neck till it hurt so I could watch my home disappear.

I looked over at Krel, his neck just as twisted as mine, looking for our home in the mess of streets. When he looked back at me, he still had tears streaming down his face. We both did.

"It is going to be alright," Varvatos told us from the from the driver's seat. "You will see your parents again. It is only a few weeks we will spend away."

"And then what?" Krel asked.

Varvatos didn't answer.

About an hour outside the base, we stopped at a store and Varvatos left us with strict instructions to keep still and quiet.

"This is all my fault," I whispered.

"What are you talking about?"

"I did something to them," My voice broke. So did the rest of me. "And then - and then I made them mad. If I had just - maybe I could've - and then we'd be -"

"Hey," He put his hand on my shoulder. "I made them mad too. If anything, we're both to blame."

"No, we're not," I shook my head into the carpet. "I _did_ something to them. I did this. I know, I know I did."

"How?"

I stared into the carpet. "I just do."

It was a moment before he responded, shifting closer to me. "You look like you need a hug," He said. "I'll go get Varvatos."

And inspite of everything that had just happened, we both burst into giggles.

"Hate to break it you, little brother," I said. "But Varvatos does not simply 'hug'." He laughed a little harder.

I straightened my back, beefing out my arms and lowering my voice several octaves. "Varvatos Vex will give you glorious death!" I cried, raising my fists the way he would. "And honorable dismemberment!"

We spent the rest of that time laughing and joking, doing our best impressions of our old friend. It was the only thing we had to shield each other - from what we knew was happening, and from what we didn't.


	2. 2

**Just Another Boring Day In Our Perfectly Normal Town**

The town of Arcadia wasn't as small as I had pictured it. Varvatos had almost made it sound like open fields someone put a sign in front of.

In a word, it was simple. Simple yet beautiful as I dragged Krel all over it, just for fun. We weren't going to be here forever, and I wanted to experience everything I could with this town. So the first day of school, I tried out for the basketball team.

I got a lecture from Varvatos about 'being inconspicuous' that night, but it was worth it. To be with other girls my age, to have something to do as we waited here. That night was also the night Varvatos sat us down and explained why we were waiting.

Mama and Papa were going to arrange a way for all of us to get out of the country, they just needed some time to do it. In the meantime, we needed to be somewhere safe. Somewhere Psi hadn't gotten so bad yet.

"Just a few weeks?" I'd asked.

Varvatos nodded. "Just a few weeks."

"That's not so bad," Krel shrugged. "It's not forever."

We never talked about the fact Mama and Papa didn't remember me. I don't think any of us understood it well enough to. But sometimes, it was all I could think about.

Instead of wallowing in whatever feeling that was, I threw myself into basketball, clinging to the distraction. I'd always liked sports, I'd always been good at them too. The Arcadia Oaks girls basketball team was no exception.

Not to mention how fun it was. Running and jumping and sweating, laughing in between shots and cheering each other on for free throws. And even though Krel didn't understand a single stitch of it, he still showed up to every game. Usually in the back, always fiddling with some new gadget, but still there.

I didn't think about how much it would hurt when half the team died over night.

I knew the disease would only get stronger. I knew there was nothing we could do to stop it. But that didn't take away the shock when it happened. They had one big funeral for the girls. Families and classmates coming together from all over town. All three of us went, me having to tie Krel's tie for him since Papa wasn't here to do it.

Scrutinizing eyes were on us the whole time. At first I thought it was because we were the newcomers. That we didn't know the girls well enough. But then I noticed the same looks being thrown at other kids. That's when it clicked.

Jealousy.

Parents who'd lost the sunshine in their lives, glaring daggers into those who still had it. Into the children that hadn't met the same fate. Why hadn't we died instead? Why hadn't we died at all?

I went home feeling sick. I tried throwing up, but nothing rose out of my cramping stomach. So I sat out on the porch instead, still in that stuffy, black dress in the pouring rain. Krel came and sat beside me after a while, resting his suit jacket on my shoulders.

"You looked like you needed some company," He said.

I pulled his jacket tighter around me, neither of us saying anything for a while.

"Why wasn't it us?" I suddenly blurted.

He glanced at me. "What are you talking about?"

"Why wasn't it me?" I said it so much quieter this time, salt burning in my throat. "Why wasn't it us? Why has it never been us?"

Krel's eyes were suddenly just as wet, an untouched fear going in and out of them. He looked down. "I don't know, Aja."

"And what if it _is_," I said. "What if, tomorrow morning, I don't wake up?"

His eyes shot up to meet mine.

"What if _you_ don't wake up?" Tears were streaming down my face, stinging my skin raw. "What happens then?"

Krel didn't answer, he just scooted closer, leaning his head on my shoulder as we both cried. I wondered if Mama and Papa felt like this. If they ever asked themselves why their babies hadn't been taken from them. If they had ever been as afraid as I was then.

I didn't expect Varvatos to join us out there in the rain. 'Comfort' wasn't exactly the geezer's strong suit. But when he touched our shoulders, the look in his eyes told me otherwise.

"You two should come inside," He said. "It is much warmer there."

Neither of us moved, rooted in place with dread.

He sighed, taking a seat between us. "Varvatos knows what you younglings have seen, and wishes you did not have to see it. Varvatos wishes you did not have the lot you were cast in life. But that is not what matters."

I tilted my head towards him. "It's not?"

"No," He laid a hand on either of our shoulders. "What matters is that we are together and we will protect each other until we can be with your parents again. The future is not a beast to chase away, it is something to hope for."

Krel sniffled. "Even if it hurts?"

"Especially when it hurts."

With that, he crushed us into a hug, giving me a strong whiff of his aftershave. We laughed against each other, tears still streaming. Varvatos didn't pull away for a while, and as much as my ribs ached, I didn't mind one bit.

That Thursday was supposed to be the day of the state championship. But the game had been cancelled due to the deaths of the girls. Krel and I walked down to the court anyway, just to see it one more time. That's when we bumped into Steve Palchuk. He was sitting on the bleachers, talking with Eli Pepperjack. The two were inseparable in and out of school. Half the student body shipped it.

"What are you doing here?" Krel asked as we approached.

"Could ask you the same thing, buttsnack," Steve threw back.

I felt like I should have an answer for him, but nothing came out when I opened my mouth. "Today was supposed to be the big game," I finally managed. "I guess, I just wanted to see if anyone else would come."

"We're here," Eli said.

"She meant anyone else on the _team_," Krel narrowed his eyes.

"What_ are_ you two doing here?" I asked.

"We always hang out here," Eli answered, adjusting his glasses. "Haven't you noticed?"

"Did you not know the game was today?"

"Of course we did," Steve stood up from the bleachers. "We're not idiots. But we also know that the team doesn't exactly need the court, since, you know, there isn't really a team anymore."

I felt my fists clench. A low growl sounded from the back of Krel's throat, seconds before he started forward. I caught his shoulder before he could get more than two steps in.

"It isn't worth it, Krel. Let's just leave."

But Steve wasn't done.

"What?" He called as we turned to leave. "You got something to say, buttsnack?"

"Ignore him," I said, pulling Krel's arm.

"Oh, okay. Go ahead and run home, Tarron! Might be the last time you ever see it."

Krel wrenched his arm from mine, whirling around and charging. They crashed together, Krel knocking Steve right off his feet. I was actually kinda proud. But then Steve managed to flip them over and put his knee up Krel's ribs. Pinning him down, Steve wound his arm back for the punch, Krel bracing for it. But it never came. I made sure of that.

Hooking my hand onto his shoulder, I wrenched Steve back up to his feet. "Stay away from my little brother," I hissed. "Snack-butt." And I slammed my fist square into his jaw.

That was all it took.

That split second of contact, and suddenly my vision was completely blacked out. Images began flashing before me, but not of the court or even the school. I saw an old, broken house. I saw take out food for Christmas. I saw walls with dents punched into them. I saw tattered cleats kicking a soccer ball. I saw a broken mother, and I saw the father that broke her.

I smelled burnt popcorn and moldy grass. I heard shouting and screaming for hours on end. I felt the sharp pain of a smack against the back of my head. I felt the ache sharp words left behind, cutting like real blows.

And then I saw Steve, but he was younger and smaller. I felt his fear for monsters under the bed, and his hatred for the real monster across the hall. I watched his mother slowly deteriorate day after day. I saw him sitting with her for hours, thinking that he could somehow protect her. I felt the jabs of pain as his father cracked his head against the dresser.

I saw Coach Lawrence getting closer, first with Steve, and then his mother. I felt how distant Steve was trying to be. I watched Hedge chase the monster down the driveway. I felt Jim Lake Jr. punch Steve under the chin. I saw Eli and watching endless amounts of TV with him.

I saw everything. I _felt_ everything.

And then I saw myself, how he saw me in that moment.

_She's like a . . . ninja-kicking angel. Like, she kicks ninjas, but she's an angel._

Suddenly, my head was splitting in two, forcing me onto my knees. It was like there was a giant clamp around my head, crushing my skull. Maybe my chest too. Maybe all of me.

And then I passed out. Right there in the free throw zone.

Krel told me later that I'd just folded in on myself, collapsing against the floorboards like a house of cards. My nose was bleeding, then my ears were bleeding, and then my mouth was too. My whole body had begun to convulse, like I was having some kind of a seizure.

According to Krel, the boys panicked. He said that Eli was desperately trying to get Steve to leave, but Steve wouldn't budge. He said that he tried calling Varvatos, but his phone was dead and I'd left mine at home. But then Steve had pulled out his own phone and asked for the number. He'd even helped Krel carry me out to the car.

By then the convulsions had stopped, but not the bleeding. It got everywhere in the car, staining the carpet and ruining the seats.

Varvatos said Krel had kept two fingers over my neck constantly, refusing to remove them no matter what. He kept shouting to Krel to see how strong my pulse was, and Krel kept saying that it was there. Weak, but there. He said that both of them prayed it would stay.

Varvatos also told me about the fit Krel had thrown once he learned they weren't taking me to a hospital. Varvatos recognized the tell tale signs of IAAN and knew that a doctor wasn't going to do me any good. Besides, going to a hospital would be like a death sentence for both me and Krel. Once we walked through those doors, we'd be taken. Just like all those other kids on the base.

They carried me inside, shoving tissues up my nose and in my mouth to try and stanch the blood. They laid me out on my bed, Krel still keeping two fingers on my pulse. And then they waited. Neither of them left my bedside for the rest of that night, hoping that I would wake up in the morning.

When I opened my eyes, the first thing I knew was my head hurt. The clamping pain was continuing the throb against my skull. The next thing I knew was my arm and how it was completely numb since Krel had fallen asleep on it. It wasn't until I looked up at my alarm clock that I realized it was four in the morning.

Varvatos was asleep in a chair they'd moved to the opposite side of the bed, his hands stained with dried blood. Both of them looked beyond exhausted. Maybe even more than I was. But the second I reached up to remove the crusty tissues from my mouth, Krel bolted up.

"Aja?" He had to blink several times to get his eyes to see straight. "Aja, you're awake!"

Varvatos's head shot up next, his red eyes instantly falling to me. "Oh, thank God . . ." He sighed, running a hand down his face.

Krel dove over me for a hug. It knocked the wind out of me, but I hugged him back anyway, welcoming Varvatos into it.

"What happened?" I asked, spitting out more tissues. My whole mouth felt papery, the awful, metallic blood the only thing I could taste. I put a hand over my throbbing forehead. "Ugh, my head's killing me."

We talked until sunrise, them filling me in on what happened, and me filling in my side.

"You think you saw his life?" Krel asked.

I shrugged. "Something like that, I guess. It felt like I was him, or he was me . . . I don't know." I rubbed my forehead again. "It kinda hurts to think about it."

"But how is that even possible?"

We both looked at Varvatos, but he only shrugged, both hands resting on his cane. "Those who survive IAAN are known to . . ." He paused, as if choosing his words carefully. "Attain abilities."

Krel snorted. "You're kidding, right? Those stories are just rumors. Propaganda."

But the seriousness in his eyes didn't flinch. He turned to me. "What do you think happened, Aja?"

I didn't say anything for a minute, just looking back and forth between them. "I - I don't really know what happened."

"Did you see what you think you did?"

I bit my lip in thought. "I just . . . don't know how it _couldn't_ be what I think it was."

None of us spoke for a while. The more I thought about it, the more impossible it seemed. Not to mention my headache was increasing by the second.

"Does this," I choked out. "Does this mean I'm gonna . . ." It was too terrifying to say. Like if the words came out, it would really happen.

"Die?" Varvatos finished for me.

I nodded, salt burning in my throat.

"Varvatos thinks," He sighed. "Your chances are good."

But that didn't make me feel better. It almost made me feel worse. So what if my chances were good, what about Krel's? What if his weren't good at all? I couldn't lose him too. I couldn't lose anybody.

"Listen, my princess," Varvatos said, leaning his elbows on his knobby knees. "Whatever happens, it will be okay. We only have one more week before we will leave with your parents. We will last that long."

I tried for a smile. "And then we'll travel the world, right?"

"Of course, my princess."

"Hey," Krel poked his head around me. "What about me? I don't get to be royalty?"

Varvatos chuckled. "My princess _and_ prince."

"Grandpa-geezer," I snickered back.

And we hugged and laughed and talked for the rest of the morning. Varvatos brought some mouthwash for me, along with a few wet wipes to get the clumps of dried blood off my lips and nose. Krel played a few songs on his phone, us singing along. I made a few impersonations of what I thought Eli's panicked face looked like and Krel just about lost it laughing so hard. In between it all, Varvatos fed us story after story of 'glorious battle' on the Vietnam front.

My migraine had faded to a light throb by the time evening rolled around. By then, Krel and Varvatos's energy was completely spent. It was just after five when Varvatos shuffled out my bedroom door, mumbling about waking him up if we needed anything. Krel tried to stay up with me, his head on the pillow, his words slurring together as he fought to keep his eyes open.

"You can sleep," I said. "You know that, right?"

"I'm not even tired." He yawned.

"Yeah," I pulled the blanket up over his shoulder. "Right."

"Mhmm." He snuggled into the blanket, his eyes falling closed.

I rolled my eyes, pulling the blanket just a bit higher before stepping off the bed. It was seven on the dot when I walked into the kitchen, suddenly realizing how thirsty I was. I chugged a few water bottles worth, then noticed the plate of pancakes still sitting on the counter. They were probably meant for when Krel and I came home from the basketball court yesterday. I guess Varvatos just forgotten about them.

They were cold, and very stale. But I hadn't eaten in a day and a half so I scarfed down a few anyway. My headache was completely gone by the time I'd finished. I reached up to touch my forehead, startled at how hot it felt against my hand. The pain was gone, but my face was still just as flushed. So I headed out to sit on the porch, thinking some fresh air would do me some good.

I brought the water bottle out with me to sip as I sat. The swing we had out there wasn't the sturdiest thing, but it was pretty calming to just sit and rock for a while, admiring Arcadia's sunset.

I'd barely been out there ten minutes before Steve's Vespa appeared on the street. I don't think he saw me right away, since his eyes were more focused on the house than the porch swing. That, and when he did see me, he just about crashed his Vespa into our mailbox.

"Oh - uh - wow, gosh, - sorry -"

The box twisted further from where he'd tried to straighten it, toppling right off the pole and clanging against the road.

"Uh . . ." He glanced up at me. "Sorry?"

"It's okay," I giggled. "It's just a mailbox."

"Er - right - yeah, it's just a mailbox," He cleared his throat. "Um, so, you - uh - you feeling . . . better?"

I pulled the hoodie I'd slipped on tighter around me. "Yeah, I'm - I'm fine."

"That's good - uh - great, I guess," He scratched the back his head. "That's why I, uh, came out here in the first place. To . . . check on you."

I raised an eyebrow. "Check on me?"

He had a cute nervous laugh. "Yeah, that sounded a lot less creepy in my head."

I giggled again, still rocking back and forth with my heels. His laugh sounded the same from when he was little -

Wait.

I stopped rocking for a moment, a cold weight in my stomach. I'd seen his whole life. The ups, the downs, _everything_. That kind of information, it was more intimate than anything. And I'd just pulled it out his head. Like it was nothing.

I folded my hands in my lap, pulling the sleeves of my hoodie down over them.

"So," He tried to lean on the mailbox pole, but that only made the pole lean, forcing him to dive to catch it. "Uh, you - you're new to Arcadia, right?"

I nodded.

"How're you liking it?"

I shrugged. "It's better than open fields."

He laughed, loud and long. In a way that made me laugh too. "Good one, Aja," He said.

I smiled to myself, brushing a lock of hair behind my ear.

"Aja?"

"Yes?"

"I'm," His face flushed a little. "I'm glad you're okay."

"Thanks," I said. "I'm glad you're okay too."

He chuckled, absently rubbing his jaw. "I'll see you around?"

I made a mental promise to see him again before Mama and Papa came for us. "I'll be here."

And he rode off into the sunset.


	3. 3

**Hey One Question: What The Hell**

The next incident didn't happen for three days.

Krel had been tinkering with Varvatos's old car since we'd come to Arcadia. Varvatos claimed he'd had it since before his "glorious battle days" in the Vietnam war. So the thing was probably ancient. Krel had been working on the engine to try and fix it up, just making sure it wouldn't stall on the highway or something like that.

"It's the closest thing we have to a getaway car," He said. "We need to make sure we can actually get away in it."

Though I was pretty sure he'd spent more time tweaking the radio than under the hood.

We were test driving it that day, late in the afternoon. Varvatos had needed to get groceries, and he'd taken us with him so we wouldn't be home alone. Krel and I had laid down on the floor of the car while he was in the store, making sure no one could see us in the car.

It was unseasonably hot for a spring evening, so we were cramped and sweating, sprawled out on the floor of the car.

"Could you move?" Krel began wiping a hand down his arm. "You're getting your nastiness all over me."

"It's called sweat," I said. "And you're getting yours all over me too."

"All the more reason for you to scoot."

"Scoot where?" I threw up a hand. "There's no room!"

"Just get up on one of the seats," He said.

I lowered my eyebrows. "Do you want to get caught?"

"No one's even around," He rolled his eyes. "And they won't see you anyway if you keep your head down."

"That's not what Varvatos said."

"What does he know? He's just being paranoid. There are tons of kids in this town that aren't dead yet, and none of them are disappearing. Why couldn't he have left us home?"

"He's trying to protect us," I said.

Krel groaned. "It's not protection, it's _paranoia_. And now we're gonna be stuck in a hot car for the next half hour."

"Oh relax," I said. "It could be worse."

"You're right," Krel snapped. "We could be miles from home, without our parents, living under the control of a paranoid geezer, and lying on the floor in a dirty car!"

"Keep your voice down!"

"You keep yours down!"

"Ugh, fine!" I kicked my heels against the carpet, scooting myself up between the front seats. "I'll scoot."

"That's not exactly 'scooting'."

"Could you move your head?" I shifted again, Krel's head now pressing into my ribs instead of my shoulder. "I can't breathe."

"And where exactly am I supposed to move it?"

"Somewhere that's not crushing me!"

"That's it, I'm sitting up."

"No!"

I caught his arm just as he started going up. He'd worn long sleeves that day, but he'd rolled them up once we'd gotten in the car. So when I grabbed his arm, I'd grabbed his bare elbow.

And that was all it took.

Suddenly all I could see was the old bedroom Krel and I used to share, back when we were barely starting to walk. I could smell the marinara sauce Papa used to make, the kind that was Krel's favorite. I saw the time I knocked over the DVD player and Krel had managed to take it apart, fix it, and put it back together before our parents even noticed. I could see my five year-old self watching him, knocking it over again to see if he could fix it a second time.

I watched Krel's little hands tinkering with endless amounts of gadgets, plucking at wires and adjusting circuit boards. I saw Mama's old phone, Papa's laptop, and some kind of a walky talky, all dissected and open as he worked. I felt how he could understand it. Like technology had a language and he was born being able to speak it.

I heard Papa's shouting the day we left. I smelled Varvatos's pancakes. I watched myself drop on the basketball court. And then . . . and then . . .

"Aja!"

His voice grated on my ears, but at least it brought me back into reality. My head felt like it was about to explode, like a clamp was trying to crush me again. I gripped the sides of my hair, digging my fingers into my skin. My mouth was full of something bitter and warm, the substance drooling over my lips. My nose was dripping with it too.

"Aja, can you hear me? What's going on?"

"Get Varvatos!" I screamed, squeezing my eyes shut. "Now!"

And then he was gone.

I curled up on the floor of the car, one hand gripping my head and the other gripping the carpet. It was terrifying, feeling as though you were going to slip away from reality. As though something was pulling you into the dark. I dug my fingers into the floor, forcing myself to stay there. I wasn't going to pass out again. Not when there was a chance I wouldn't wake up. I wasn't leaving Krel.

"Aja!" Varvatos's voice rang inside my head like it was thunder. "Are you alright, my princess?"

I opened my mouth but all that came out was more blood, so I gritted my teeth shut and shook my head. The drive home felt so much longer than it was, Krel and Varvatos arguing the whole time over 'paranoia' and how we could 'handle ourselves'. I just buried my head in Krel's lap, desperately trying to block out the sound.

When we arrived back home, I'd barely stumbled through the door before I fell over the sink and vomited into it. Krel and Varvatos continued their yelling match while I panted over the faucet, Krel only pausing to hold my hair back.

"We didn't ask to get stuck here with you!" Krel shouted, making my ears ring.

"And Varvatos did not ask to get stuck with two delinquents that don't have any respect for their elders!"

"We are not delinquents -"

"Guys!" I spat in the sink. "_Enough_!"

"Exactly," Krel said. "I've had enough of this ridiculous paranoia!"

"Varvatos is saving your lives!" Varvatos roared.

"By doing what?" He snapped back. "Making us sit and stay like good little children?"

"Yes!"

"Agh!" Krel slammed a fist down on the counter. The lights above us flickered. "Mama and Papa could protect us just fine on their own! We don't need to be here with you!"

"It is only four more days!" Varvatos shouted. "You cannot be patient for that long?"

The bulbs over the hallway burst, shattered glass raining down on the floor. I turned to see the clock on the microwave blinking. The toaster was buzzing with heat, and it wasn't even plugged in.

"Um, guys?"

"You can't just march around giving us senseless orders! You're not our parents!"

"Thank heavens Varvatos is not!"

The microwave turned on, the light coming on and the plate inside it beginning to spin. The outlet across from the sink started sparking. And one other outlet was sparking, the one on the edge of the counter. Right where Krel was standing.

"Krel!"

"What!"

He'd barely finished the word when the sparks flew toward him. But it was more than just a few sparks, it looked like a whole bolt of lightning. The loud _zap_ rang in my ears, the giant flash of light blinding me for a second. The entire house went dark, the microwave, the toaster, everything shutting down.

Krel had been knocked clean off his feet, hitting the wall before dropping to his knees. He was doubled over, his face pinched in pain.

"Krel?" I took a step towards him. "Are you okay?"

He didn't answer at first, grimacing at the floor.

"Krel," I took another step. "What happened -"

"No, don't - " His hands shot out, meant to ward me off, but the second he put them in the air, lighting began arching between them.

I had a split second to duck against the counter before the energy bolted off his hands with another _zap_. The outlet at the end of the counter exploded in a shower of sparks. The microwave busted open with a wave of heat. The toaster popped itself apart. The lights above us grew brighter and brighter, until every bulb burst, one by one.

My hands went over my head as a shield from the broken glass. By the time I could look up, the house had gone dark again. Out the front window, I watched the house across the street blackout too. And then the house next to them, then next to them, all the way down the block.

I had to grip the counter to pull myself up, the faint smell of smoke hanging in the air. Krel was backed up against the wall, his eyes teary and wide as he stared at the giant scorch mark now decorating the wall of the counter.

"Krel?"

He looked down at his trembling hands, tears spilling down his face. His nose was bleeding.

"Krel, are you -"

"No!" He jumped away from me, backing himself into a corner. "Don't come any closer."

I looked back at Varvatos, not knowing what else to do. He was using his cane to pry himself back to his feet, his eyes calm and alert.

"Breathe," He said to Krel. "Try to be calm."

"What did I do?" Krel was shaking, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. "I didn't mean - I'm sorry -"

"It's alright, my prince," Varvatos shuffled closer. "Everything is going to be alright."

He tucked his hands against his stomach, squeezing his eyes shut. "It hurts."

"Varvatos knows."

"No, don't," Krel crammed himself back into the corner. "Stay away from me, I - I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't, my prince," Varvatos offered a hand to Krel. "You won't."

More tears spilled from Krel's eyes, his face pale with fear. My stomach was tying itself into knots watching, my headache all but forgotten. Slowly, so slowly, Krel's trembling hand reached up to grasp Varvatos's. There were no arches of lightning. No loud _zap_. No blinding flash of light.

I watched the relief flood Krel's face as Varvatos tugged him to his feet, but it didn't erase the fear there. And it didn't stop the shaking. So I reached for him too.

"You are not going to hurt anyone, my prince," Varvatos said. And we pulled Krel between us into a hug.

We spent the rest of the night cleaning up broken glass, Krel and I pausing to wash out our mouths and down a few aspirin. I scraped what I could off the burn on the counter, but Varvatos said that if worse came to worse, we could just say it was a grease fire. Krel had to completely dismember the toaster to get it working again, but after a few minutes of fiddling, it was like new.

Once the outlets started back up, Varvatos went around resetting all the digital clocks in the house. Krel and I were able to find some spare light bulbs in the basement. And we were able to get the blinds drawn before any neighbors noticed the scene.

It was late by the time we'd finished, but none of us were about to fall asleep. We all more or less crashed on the couch instead, Krel tucked into the corner, me beside him, and Varvatos across from us.

I was the first one to speak. "I wanna talk about it," I said. "I wanna talk about IAAN."

"What else is there to talk about?" Krel mumbled under his breath.

"It seems as though the two of you have contracted the disease," Varvatos said, hands on his cane. "And, from what Varvatos sees, survived it."

"Does that mean it's true?" I asked. "The whole . . . 'abilities' thing. That's real?"

"You tell Varvatos."

I didn't reply, my hand reaching up to rub my sore forehead.

"It just doesn't seem possible," Krel finally said. "How could Aja - how could I -" He clenched his hands tighter in his lap.

"It is hard to understand," Varvatos said. "Varvatos knows. But you must realize, this is the reason your parents sent you here, in case an event like this ever happened."

"The other kids on the base," I said. "Could they - _can_ they do things like . . . this?"

A shadow passed over Varvatos's face. "Yes, they can. That's why they were taken."

"Because they want to find the cause?" Krel asked.

"Because it is believed they are too dangerous to be left alone."

The room became very quiet.

I looked down at my hands. "Maybe they're right."

"Aja," Varvatos leaned towards me, a stern gentleness in his eyes. "You are not without hope. Your parents love you, they simply require the time to remember that. And they will - they will know you again. Varvatos promises he will do everything in his power to make it so. You are not dangerous. Neither of you are."

I inhaled deeply through my nose, tears falling down my face. It was so terrifying to hope. To face the reality of what I'd done. How absolutely impossible it was. And how impossible it seemed to have my family back.

"But you must understand that there are dangerous people out there, far more than you may think," Varvatos said. "There are reasons you are with Varvatos and not your parents. There is a reason we are leaving the country in four days. This is not a game. PSF officers are not going to hesitate because you are younglings, they will take you. And if you resist, they will kill you."

Something inside me twisted. Krel and I glanced at each other.

"Your school mates?" Varvatos said. "A woman flagged down one of the buses to retrieve her child. The PSF officers killed her for trying to prevent the arrest."

My throat closed up.

"Varvatos does not tell you this to scare you," He continued. "He tells you so that you know how serious this is. Varvatos knows he is not really your grandpa, but your parents trusted Varvatos. Now, Varvatos needs you to do the same."

Krel and I looked at each other again, tears in both our eyes. I could feel how scared he was, and I bet he could feel how scared I was. I wanted nothing more than to wish those last four days away, to have them done and over with and leave all of this behind.

"I think we can," Krel put on a soft smile. "Grandpa-geezer."

Varvatos chuckled. "Varvatos thinks it is time the two of you got to bed."


	4. 4

**Somebody Once Told Me The World Was Gonna Kill Me**

The next day I texted Steve to meet Krel and I at the basketball court again. Krel thought it was a stupid waste of time, but I wanted to take a day and hang out with potential friends. Somewhere around noon, Steve texted back that Eli was stuck at home for some reason and we'd meet tomorrow.

Krel was relieved at the extra time to convince me to cancel, and I was just happy to have something to do instead of waiting around the house for four days. And I was excited to see Steve again. I didn't even know why back then.

But I never did see him.

That night, sometime just after three, I woke to the feeling of Varvatos shaking me. I craned my neck to look at him, squinting to see in the dark. "Varvatos? What are you doing?"

He ripped my blanket off of me. "Get up, Aja. We need to go."

"What are you talking about?" I rubbed my eyes. "Mama and Papa aren't coming -"

"Now, Aja."

Something in me froze at his tone. His posture. The look in his eyes. Something was wrong. Something was so terribly wrong.

"What's going on?"

He took my hand, pulling me off the bed and towards the door. "Varvatos has already packed the car with your belongings. Retrieve your shoes, get into the backseat, and keep your voice down. Varvatos will get your brother."

I wrapped my arms around myself, shivering in my pajamas. I wanted to change into something a little more appropriate for the trip, but the way Varvatos had looked at me told me there wasn't time for that.

Grabbing my sneakers, I strode through the garage and climbed into the back of the car. It wasn't ten seconds later that Krel appeared in the doorway, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He stumbled into the backseat beside me, holding his shoes in his hand.

"What's going on?" He asked.

I glanced at Varvatos as he climbed into the driver's seat. My mouth opened to ask the question, but it closed again once I saw him toss the nine millimeter handgun into the passenger seat.

". . . Varvatos?"

"Get on the floor," He turned to look at us. "Now."

Krel and I didn't argue. It was cramped as always as we squished ourselves between the seats. But it was cold this early in the morning and we were shivering against each other. I pulled my sleeves down over my wrists, tucking my hands against my chest to make sure Krel and I didn't accidentally brush arms and give me a massive migraine. Now would probably be the worst time for that to happen.

Varvatos carefully pulled the car out of the driveway, driving near silent up the road and out of the neighborhood. Just as we were getting on the back roads, several more cars whizzed passed us. Not just cars. Big, black vans.

I was the one to poke my head up first. "PSFs," I said. "They found us."

"What?" Krel pried himself up next, catching the three, large letters printed on the back of the vans. "But that means . . ."

Krel and I looked back at Varvatos.

"Where's Mama and Papa?"

He didn't answer.

Cold horror washed over me. All my hopes of leaving this behind. Of seeing my parents again. Of somehow having them know me again. Gone. Just like that.

"Where. Are. Our parents." Krel said, tears in his eyes.

He sighed. "Varvatos does not know."

I tear slipped down my cheek, but I felt so numb I almost didn't notice. "What do you mean you don't know? Didn't you talk to them last night?"

Varvatos had a sort of radio to relay messages from Mama and Papa. He talked with them at least once a day to give them updates, just like he had last night.

"Varvatos received a message from them earlier this morning," He said. "They were caught."

Krel's voice broke. "Caught?"

"PSF officials discovered them," Varvatos explained. "They only had time to warn me before they had to run themselves."

"Are we going to meet them?" I choked. "Where did they go?"

"They did not tell Varvatos where," He said.

"Do we even know if they got away?" Krel asked.

Varvatos hesitated. "No."

All the color drained from my face, a hand coming over my mouth to keep in the sob. "No," I whispered. "No, no, no, no, _no_." I raked my fingers through my hair.

"We are not out of danger yet," Varvatos said. "The two of you need to stay down until we at least get out of the city."

"We're leaving Arcadia?" I squeaked.

"We don't have a choice."

"But," I hiccuped. "We're supposed to meet Steve -"

"Who cares about that bumbling oaf!" Krel shouted. "We need to find our parents!"

"My prince -"

"We can track the signal from the radio, can't we? Varvatos where's your radio -"

"Just get down!" He shouted back. "Both of you!"

But neither of us moved, just leaning on each other and crying. I kept seeing my parents faces in my mind. I kept hearing Krel's words, _It's not forever_. What if it was now?

"Aja, Krel," Varvatos turned to look at us again. "Varvatos mourns too, but grief must wait for survival. And survival means staying out of sight."

It was like I could barely breathe, everything in me was spinning and beating out of control. My arms pushed me back down between the seats without my permission. Everything was numb, the only feeling left was a crushing ache around my heart. I couldn't think. I couldn't even exist.

Krel and I laid there for hours as we drove, all through the day and into the next night. Krel spent every spare second muttering about tracking signals and hacking servers, his eyebrows knitted in thought. I just stared at the ceiling, letting my mind wander in and out of consciousness. Letting it go back to the last time my mother hugged me.

I don't remember falling asleep, but after all the driving, it was the stillness that woke me. I sat up, muscles I didn't even know I had aching and pinching. The clock on the dash told me it was just after seven in the morning. Krel was knocked out cold beside me. Varvatos looking next to dead in the driver's seat. We were pulled to the side of an old dirt road, hidden in the clearing of trees on the side of some hill.

It was so still. So quiet.

Crawling across the seats, I pushed open the door, letting a waft of cool, fresh air hit me. It felt so good against my flushed face, like I hadn't really been cramped up in the car. Scooting off the seat, I landed in the grass on weak knees, stretching out my back for the first time in a full day.

At least the view was nice. Fields of tall grass leading down an incline, spots of trees dotting along the way, and the sun rising in front of it all. I'd always wanted to travel. Out there in the wide world, so many lands and oceans and places I'd never seen. It seemed so adventurous.

But out here in the middle of nowhere, it was empty. Empty and quiet and hollow.

Or maybe that's just what I was.

I dropped in the grass, pulling my knees to my chest as I cried. As much as my legs ached to run, there was no energy left in me. I didn't want the fresh air or the mountain pasture or anything. I just wanted my Mama and Papa.

I didn't know Krel was awake until he sat down next to me.

"Are you okay?"

"I don't know," I wiped my face. "I - I hate that we keep losing people. I hate hiding. I hate being so afraid."

"You know," He said. "Before we left, Papa told me something."

I wiped my nose. "Yeah?"

"He told me that we, are all that each other has," He leaned his elbow against mine. "That's why I'm not afraid. Because I have you."

A soft smile came to my face, my head leaning back on his. I didn't know how we were going to get out of this mess. I didn't know how we were ever gonna stop having to hide. I didn't know if we would ever see Mama and Papa again. But it was so much easier going into the unknown with my little brother by my side.


	5. 5

**Go On A Road Trip, They Said**

We stayed on the road for five months after that day.

Five months of what I like to call 'organized chaos'. Varvatos's plans were more or less Plan B of our parents idea, which meant getting us out of the country ASAP. Our first tries were Mexico and Canada, which both happened to be building walls to keep the infected citizens in their own country.

We tried the coasts next, seeing if there was some kind of boat we could get on. But the security was overwhelming. It wasn't just about leaving the US, it was about getting the approval of the next place over to come. And the only way to do that would be to come out of hiding to try and get a green card. Which, for us, was impossible.

After that, our priorities became finding Mama and Papa and staying hidden. And that took us all _over_. I made Krel fix up a polaroid camera just so I could take pictures of all three of us in front of every city we visited.

Varvatos would stop as often as he could at motels, often very crummy and always in the middle of nowhere. That way, the three of us would have running water at least a few days out of the week.

Other than that, Varvatos only agreed to stop twice a day, usually at some hole in the wall diner to grab us something to eat. And then one stop a night if he hadn't gotten a motel to squat in, to let me and Krel stretch out our legs.

We only ever left the car at night, unless absolutely necessary. And whenever we did, Varvatos had us up and moving. Whether it was racing along an abandoned road, seeing who could climb a tree the fastest, or straight up wrestling each other in the middle of a field.

"Your muscles are deteriorating in the back of that car!" He said. "You've got to get them moving some time!"

It wasn't until he started making us run alongside the car that I realized it wasn't just about keeping our muscles working. It was about teaching us how to run, as in, run _away_. Krel realized the day after I did, and even though Varvatos knew both of us knew, no one said anything about it. No one wanted to.

By the end of the first week, Krel just about lost his mind from being cut off from the internet. "It's our only connection to the outside world," He said. "If we're gonna be driving all over this country we need to know what's going on in it. That's just common sense."

So the next time we stopped, Varvatos brought Krel a laptop. It was old and used, since we were only using whatever cash Varvatos could grab from the house. But after replacing just a few parts, rewiring the system, and some rebooting, Krel had it working good as knew.

We were parked behind a dumpster, me in the driver's seat and Krel in the passenger while Varvatos was across the street getting our dinner. "I tried researching Mama and Papa's case," He said. "But there's almost nothing on it."

"You found their case?" I leaned over to see. There were two images taking up half the screen, one of our mother, one of our father. They were driver's license photos.

"In the archives."

"You hacked the pentagon?"

Krel snorted. "It's not the _pentagon_ \- that would've taken me _way_ longer. It's just the local Akiridion-5 base. That's where they would keep all federal cases that happened within the area. Mama and Papa's case exists, it's just . . . really small."

"It that . . . good?"

"Not for us," He replied. "The more information we have the better chance we have at finding them. But all it says here is the name of their offense and that they were arrested."

"Arrested?" I perked up. "Like prison? Can't we track them through that?"

"Not really," Krel said. "It says 'arrested' not 'convicted'."

"What's the difference?"

"'Convicted' would mean that they were actually sentenced for their offense, which would then lead to the prison they were being held at," He explained. "But it doesn't say anything about a sentencing, or even a trial. It just kinda . . . ends."

"You gotta theory?"

He pursed his lips into the screen. "Maybe."

"And it would be . . .?"

"They were taken into custody by PSFs and then somehow managed to talk their way out of it," He said. "Therefore avoiding the conviction long enough to get into hiding."

"That means they're out there, right?" I asked. "We can find them?"

Krel sighed, running a hand through his hair. "If they went into hiding, they went completely off the grid. There's literally no trace of them. I've tried credit cards, bank accounts, social security, anything I could think of." He shook his head. "It's like they fell off the face of the earth."

I reached over to lay a hand on his shoulder. "We'll figure it out, Krel." I said. "If anyone can track them down, it's you."

"But we're not the only ones tracking them," He replied, his head bowing towards the screen. "If PSFs are looking for them, they'll be using resources we can't hope to compete with. Not to mention they don't have to hide in a hot car all day."

"You may have a point," I said, my hand still on his shoulder. "But you forgot something."

"What would that be?"

"Mama and Papa are looking for us too," I said. "And with all four Tarrons on the case, it'll just be a matter of time."

It was almost three weeks later that Varvatos pulled over to the side of a ghost town in Arizona. Krel was asleep on one of the seats. I was on the floor, leaning against the door as I watched out the window. I'd learned to love doing that, just watching the wide world go by as we drove all over it. But when Varvatos stopped the car, my insides knotted with worry.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Nothing," He replied. "Varvatos simply thinks it's about time you learned to drive."

I thought he was joking at first. I hadn't even turned thirteen yet. But ten minutes later I was behind the wheel in front of an open road and I realized, he wasn't joking. We had to scoot the seat all the way forward for my feet to reach the pedals.

"The right one is the gas," Varvatos said. "Begin gently -"

I floored it, the car flying forward. Panicking, I slammed down on the break, which threw Varvatos directly into the dash and Krel right off the seats he was laying on. Miraculously, it didn't wake him up.

"What part of 'gently'," Varvatos peeled himself up from the dash. "Did you misunderstand?"

I gave a nervous laugh, scrunching up my shoulders. "My bad?"

We drove for the rest of the afternoon, me panicking only a few more times after that. By the evening, I was driving smooth circles in and out of the ghost town. But Varvatos was not about to let me do any more than that with the car. So he let me return to the back where I could sleep a few hours before Krel and I would have another push-up contest.

That night was the first time we were spotted.

I was lying on my stomach on the moldy sheets of the motel bed, Krel showing me the recruiting services for 'trolls'.

"They're like bounty hunters," He said, scrolling through the images on the website. "Any kid that's escaped from custody has a specific price based on their powers and how much trouble they were while still _in_ custody."

"Why would they need bounty hunters?" I asked. "I mean, after the draft for PSFs, don't they enough people tormenting kids? And why call themselves 'trolls'?"

"According to this, most PSFs are concentrated in the rehabilitation camps, so they're spread thin everywhere else," He replied. "And 'trolls' isn't the official name. It's just a nickname someone in DC started and it stuck."

I sighed, dropping my chin into my hand. "So now we have twice the reason to look over our shoulders."

Krel shrugged. "More like we have twice the reason to be prepared. There aren't many trolls so far, but we'll definitely need to be ready for when there are."

"It's not like Varvatos let's anyone see us anyway," I replied, glancing at the bathroom Varvatos was currently using to shower. I flipped over on my back. "I just wish we could help those other kids."

Krel continued typing. "What do you mean?"

"We were lucky, Krel. Don't you ever think about that? Not every kid has a Varvatos to take care of them."

"Yeah, but it's not like there's anything we can do about that."

I sighed to the ceiling. "Maybe we can."

"Aja?"

"Like keep an eye out for them or something -"

"Aja!"

"I'm serious Krel -"

"No," His head was twisted towards the window. "That."

I followed his eyes, finding a middle aged custodian staring at us through a crack in the curtains. For one horrible moment, we all just stared at each other. And then the woman bolted for the front office.

I immediately leapt up, throwing the curtains shut and switching the lights off. "Get to the car," I told Krel. "I'll get Varvatos."

With him out the door, I ran to the bathroom door and knocked three times. It was the signal Varvatos had established for us. One knock meant things were okay. Two knocks meant it was time to go. Three meant drop everything and run.

After the knocks, I pivoted on my heel and sprinted for the car, ducking in the back with Krel. Varvatos appeared not sixty seconds later, his clothes half soaked and his grey hair matted to his head with water. He'd barely started the car when the custodian came barreling out of the front, several men following her.

"There!" She screamed, throwing her hand towards our car. "Those are the squatters!"

"Get down!" And then Varvatos floored it.

Krel and I were crushed into each other from the force, knocking both of us into the door. The tires squealed as we shredded away, but shouts and revving engines followed us. I put my head flat against the headrest of the seats, peeking over them to see the two vehicles tailing ours. One was a pickup truck, the other a motorcycle.

"If they just think we're squatters," Krel asked. "Why are they chasing us?"

"Because they don't just think we're squatters," Varvatos called back.

I peeked over again, this time catching the silver badge on the motorcyclist's chest. My stomach dropped. I knew that badge. Krel had just shown me a picture of it.

"Trolls," I choked out. "They - they're trolls."

"What?" Krel glanced over the seats with me. I watched the color drain from his face.

"Aja," Varvatos shouted. "Come to the passenger seat."

My hands were shaking as they pulled my into the front seat, my heart racing in my chest.

"The nine millimeter is in the glove box."

Krel leaned over behind us. "You're letting Aja use the _gun_?"

"Get it out, now!"

"Okay!" I yanked open the compartment, the silver handgun falling into my lap.

"Varvatos will roll down your window," Varvatos continued. "When he does, lean out of it and shoot the tires on the motorcycle. Understand?"

My hands were clammy around the holster, my eyes darting over it. I'd never shot anything more than a pea shooter. That was the family rule, you don't get to shoot a real gun until you're thirteen.

"I - I don't know how -"

"Varvatos will walk you through it."

A shot blasted from behind us. Krel let out a cry and dropped to the ground, a bullet whizzing between Varvatos and I and pelting straight through the windshield. I stared at the hole in the glass with wide eyes, my chest constricting.

I looked back to Varvatos, forcing my heart to be calm. "Tell me what to do."

"It's already loaded," My window slid open, the rough breeze whipping my hair back. "All you need to do is chamber the rounds and fire."

"I need to what the _what_?"

"Cock it!" Krel popped up from the floor. "He means you need to cock it!"

"How do I do that?"

Another shot fired, a ring of tearing metal echoing as the bullet hit our bumper. The car swerved, knocking me against the heel of the passenger door.

"Put your palm flat on the roof of the gun," Varvatos said, watching out of the corner of his eye as I did it. "Now grab it, and pull it back."

I closed my fingers on it, giving it a tug, but it just slipped back into place.

"Harder than that, Aja."

I gritted my teeth, yanking at it until a click sounded and it snapped back to the front.

"Put it in your right hand," Varvatos said. "And do _not_ put your finger on the trigger until you are certain you are ready to fire, understand?"

"I think so," I craned my neck towards the window.

"Lean far enough to get a probable shot," Varvatos said. "Krel will hold your legs in case anything happens."

"I will?"

Varvatos snapped his fingers, stabbing one of them at me.

"I guess I will."

He climbed over the seat, his hands pressing down on my ankles as I twisting around, my back against the dash and my head leaning out the window. I leaned until I had both shoulders out, the gun poised in front of me.

"How do I aim?" I shouted over the wind.

"Did that little blondie just ask how to aim?" The passenger in the truck had his head out the window too, a rifle balanced across his lap. "Why don't you come with us, blondie? We can teach you to aim."

A split second later, his rifle wasn't balanced on his lap, it was in his hands. Then Krel had a hold of my collar as he ripped me back into the car. Shots blasted past us, the rear view mirror shattering and flying off into the dark.

"Align the target with the barrel then align the barrel with your eye," Varvatos nearly panted, his face pale. Another shot hit our bumper. "Now or never, Aja!"

I threw myself back out, Krel barely having enough time to grab my ankles again. I knew I couldn't hang out my window forever, not if I wanted to keep my head on my shoulders. So when the gun came level with my eye, I pulled the trigger. The blast rang in my ears, the force throwing me back against the wall of the car. The shot itself went wild, bouncing harmlessly off the road.

"Nice try, blondie!"

I ducked back into the car. "I can't do this."

"Yes you can, Aja," Varvatos said it firmly, despite how much he was sweating. "You just need to calm down. Keep low to the car. And shoot with both eyes on your target."

"I can't -"

Suddenly, the car jolted, shuddering and swerving till we were heading off the rood - and then straight into a nearby oak tree. I didn't even have time to scream before the impact.

I remember seeing Varvatos's arm flying out in front of the airbag before it could deploy. I remember flipping around in my seat seconds before it hit. I remember Krel dropping behind the front seats. And I remember waking up.

My neck was blaring with pain, aching up into my skull and down my spine. Varvatos was hunched over the wheel, blood pouring from his temple and his arm dangling by his side.

I reached over to shake him. "Varvatos?"

No response.

"Varvatos!" I screamed, shaking him harder. "Varvatos, wake up! Please!"

"Aja!" Krel bolted up from behind the seat. His lip was split. "The gun!"

It was still in my lap as I watched the trolls approach. I grabbed it, aiming blindly out the window. "Get away!" I shouted. "Get away or I'll shoot!"

The motorcyclist crouched in front of the window before me, grinning at me. "Oh, you'll shoot, you say?"

The driver of the truck threw open the side door, grabbing Krel and ripping him out onto the grass.

"Krel!"

"Drop the gun, blondie," The cyclist pulled his own handgun from his belt, putting it to the side of Krel's head. "Or I'm gonna shoot too."

Tears were in my eyes, but I swallowed them back, my hands trembling as the nine millimeter lowered back into my lap.

"Now get out of the car," He said. "And leave the gun."

I dropped it onto the floor, glancing one last time at Varvatos, silently willing for him to open his eyes and save us.

"While we're young, blondie," He rolled his eyes, digging the barrel deeper into Krel's hair.

I tugged the handle, but nothing happened, the door being crushed into place. I pushed on the heel of the door, but it wasn't about to budge.

The cyclist groaned. "Will someone just grab her?"

The passenger of the truck thrust his hands out, grabbing a fist full of my hair and yanking me out the window to the ground. I landed with a gasp, the wind being knocked from my aching lungs. His wide hands were pinning mine beside my head, his knee on my stomach.

But my long sleeves were what barred me from seeing into his mind. I always wore long sleeves, the kind that pull down over your hand and hook onto your thumb. To make sure I didn't accidentally brush against someone and pass out again. But now, I would've given anything to be able to roll them up.

"Garrison!" He shouted to the driver. "Get the cuffs!"

"Nah, we don't need those yet," The cyclist said. "Not as long we got her little friend here, right?"

Krel and I locked eyes, absolute terror going between us. Would they separate us? What about Varvatos? How would we find Mama and Papa now?

Suddenly, a flash of light went across my eyes, blinding against the night sky. I grimaced, blinking away the spots as I looked back up. The passenger of the truck was holding his phone over my face, the face of it wrapped in neon orange. I'd seen those before too. When Krel had shown me a picture of the official tech the trolls were allowed to use. Back when we were safe.

Back fifteen minutes ago.

"Huh," He said to the screen. "Not in the system. Guess you've never been to a camp before, hm?"

I didn't answer.

"Well you're in for a real treat," He sang. "They've got these nice, pretty uniforms. Nice, hot meals. And great big walls to make sure you freaks never see the stars again." He grabbed my hair again, yanking my head back till I was staring straight up. "So why don't you get a good look?"

It took all of my strength to swallow the sob in my throat.

"Ty," The cyclist rolled his eyes. "Will you get off her? We gotta split before someone else shows up."

"Aw," He pouted. "Come on, man. I just got started."

"Yeah, yeah," The driver - Garrison? - rolled his eyes. "You can have your fun later. Let's go."

He looked back to me, shooting me another twisted grin before ripping me off the ground by my hair. My knees were wobbly and weak as I forced them forward, craning my neck to look back at the car one last time. But then I felt a shove and the hard tip of another gun being pressed into my back.

"Don't look back, blondie," He whispered against my ear, making my skin crawl. "That life's gone. You're with me now."


	6. 6

**My First Kiss Went A Little Like This**

They pressed us against the side of the truck, zip tying our wrists behind our backs before forcing us into the back seat of the truck. Krel and I huddled close to each other, looking out the window to see what was left of our car, what was left of our life, vanish into the distance.

A cold tear dripped down my face. And I couldn't even wipe it away.

Krel and I locked eyes again, more tears falling. I wouldn't have known what to say to him even if I could talk to him. My mind was completely empty. All of me was empty.

Then 'Ty' spoke.

"We're going back to the motel, right?" He asked. "I mean, all our stuff is there."

"Yeah," Garrison pulled the truck into the motel parking lot, leaving the keys in the ignition as he stepped out. "Keep an eye on 'em, alright? Be right back."

He craned his neck to look us over the seat. "Looks like it's just us." Then he pulled out his phone and began thumbing through it, one hand still closed on the gun.

My eyes went to his silhouette, and then back to Krel's. He shook his head, a little at first, and then violently.

Ty spun around. "What's going on back there? We getting chatty?"

"N-no," I forced myself to say. "No, I was just . . . just wondering . . ." I swallowed. "What your name was . . .?"

I almost thought he was gonna shoot me for that.

But then a cool grin spread over his face and he chuckled. "Do ya? It's Tyler. But you, blondie, can call me Ty."

I tried to smile. It was good enough for him to buy.

"Where - um -" I swallowed again. "Where are you . . . from?"

"Well," He said. "I'm from up north. Old Montana territory most people haven't even seen. Real beautiful up there, too," Another smirk, "kinda like you."

"Yeah," I tried to laugh, but it came out more of a sigh. "Thanks . . ."

Krel was still shaking his head at me, straight horror reflecting in his eyes. I winced at him, trying to say how urgent this was. He just mouthed the word 'don't'.

"Um," I cleared my throat. "What's . . . what's your jacket made out of?"

Ty's grin went lopsided. "Why don't you come feel for yourself?"

Krel's eyes were full of fresh tears. 'Please,' He mouthed. But I pushed myself forward anyway, shuffling between the seats till Ty could situate me onto his lap. His hands were solid on my waist, pulling me up so that I sat with my front against his and my legs hanging beside his hips.

But it was still just contact through clothing.

"What do you think?" He slowly inched me closer. "What's it made out of, blondie?"

I stretched my trembling fingers out to try and touch his. All I needed was a split second of contact, just a brush. I'd seen all of Steve's life in the time it had taken to punch him in the face. Jeez, I hadn't thought about Steve in forever.

"Hm?"

"Uh . . ." I licked my lips. "I don't . . . I don't know."

"Well, why don't we see what your shirt's made of, yeah?"

My throat closed up as his hands slid up my sides, feeling up my ribs and against the fabric of my shirt. His fingers pried into me, squeezing and kneading. Touching me in a way I didn't even know I could be touched. I squeezed my eyes shut.

"What's wrong, blondie?"

I forced my eyes open. "N-nothing."

"Oh?" He smiled. "It's alright to be nervous, especially if it's your first time."

First and last, buddy.

His hand trailed down my back again, my fingers desperately reaching for his hand. But all he managed to touch was the clothed heel of my palm. His hands traveled back around to my hips, massaging and rolling them against his.

My eyes went to the ceiling, looking for a distraction. Anything to keep me from focusing on what was happening. On what it felt like. On the fact that my little brother was watching.

"Just relax, blondie" He whispered. "I'm gonna make you feel good."

His boney hands traveling around towards my back. But sliding lower this time -

My eyes went wide. Something inside me snapped. That was it. That was my limit. This was ending and it was ending now.

"Wow, blondie, you've got a -"

I threw myself forward, launching my face into the side of his neck.

And I was in.

I could smell the cookies his mother used to make every Friday. I could see his father's suicide note as ten year-old Ty read it over and over. I could see the mountain ranges of Montana. I could smell horses and hear their hooves pounding against the ground.

I saw the whole roster of girls he'd have "fun" with in the locker rooms. I felt the smooth case of the orange cell phone. I felt the pride swelling in his chest when his old redneck friends welcomed him into their troll group.

But it was too much. Too much and too many. I needed something now. Something that would get him to loose the zip tie on my wrists. Something to help us get away. Just _something_.

It felt like wading through water as I riffled through his thoughts. So much, so many. I needed to narrow it down.

Or maybe.

Maybe I didn't need to narrow it down. Maybe I needed to add to it.

Could I even do that?

But then his hands were on my shoulders, pulling me back into reality._ No!_ Something inside me screamed. _Touch him again! Now!_

"Aren't you eager," He grinned, his tobacco breath fanning over me. "I can roll with that."

"Wha-"

I'd barely uttered the word before he crashed his lips into mine, shoving my back flat against the dash just from the force. I squeezed my eyes shut, entering his mind to block out the horrible feeling of his mouth.

I waded into his thoughts, diving deeper this time. I could feel his fear of isolation and loneliness. I could see the nightmares he forced himself to forget as a child. I could feel everything, like I was actually holding his brain in my hands.

Time slowed down when I was in people's heads, I knew that. But I also knew that I didn't have a second to waste. So I closed my fingers around his brain and screamed one line into his thoughts: _Untie me_.

I imagined his hands moving along the zip tie. I felt the scrape of the plastic against his fingers. I heard the tiny buzz as the tie slipped loose. And I shoved them down into his brain, again and again - as many times as I had to.

_Untie me._

_Untie me._

_Untie me._

It was like doing push-ups with my mind. It burned and it ached, the pain only worsening the more I pumped his brain with the images. But I didn't care.

_Untie me._

_Untie me._

_Untie me._

The zip tie came loose.

"_HEY_!" I felt the volume of Krel's scream more than I heard it. And then I felt Krel's body weight crushing me against the dash as he pounced on Ty's back. "_GET OFF MY SISTER_!"

Every light in the car went on. The engine revved. Even the radio started blasting.

I twisted to the side, my now free hands diving for the handgun pressed between me and Ty.

"What the -!"

He shoved Krel back, throwing him onto the seats again. But by the time he had, I already had the gun against his forehead. "Don't move," I had to shout it over the radio, but I think he got the message anyway.

At first, it was shock that was plastered all over his face. Then it was sly anger, and then right back to fear. "Oh God," He gasped. "You're one of _those_ \- you're - oh my God, you're an _Orange_."

"A what?"

". . . Aja?"

I turned to Krel, but his eyes were out the car window. Following his gaze, I watched every car in the lot light up like a field of Christmas trees. Headlights blinking. Engines growling. Automatic doors sliding open and closed. Even some car horns going off.

Had Krel done that?

"Oh God, he's a Yellow," Ty was practically hyperventilating. "I'm stuck in a car with an Orange and a Yellow. I'm gonna die."

"Stop talking," I snapped. "And put your hands behind your head."

He obeyed, me grabbing the headrest and climbing off his lap to sit in the driver's seat. The keys were still in the ignition, and now that the parking lot has turned into a light show, we needed to get going.

Keeping one hand aiming the gun and Ty's head, I put the truck in reverse and eased out slowly. But then Garrison and the cyclist came sprinting out of the motel and I didn't have much choice but to floor it.

We swerved more than turned onto the road, my knuckles white around the wheel. Varvatos had given me one driving lesson so far. And I didn't even do that well in the first place.

"We got company!" Krel shouted.

Glancing in the rear view mirror, I saw the cyclist gaining on us, Garrison sitting behind him with the rifle.

"Untie my brother," I shouted to Ty. "Now!"

"Okay! Okay!" He twisted around, Krel rolling his eyes as Ty fumbled with the restraints. A small _zip_ sounded, and then Krel shoved Ty right back into the passenger seat.

"Now get out," I said.

Ty's face went pallid. "But . . . the car's still moving -"

I nodded back to Krel. "Get the door for him."

"With pleasure."

Ty scooted as far away as he could when Krel leaned over to pull the door handle, throwing the door open and then grabbing Ty by his collar to shove him through it.

Krel slammed the door closed with a grin. "That was satisfying."

"Tell me about it."

"So now what?"

"To be honest, I didn't think we'd make it this far."

"Aja!"

"Right!" I shook my head. "We need to get back Varvatos."

"And then what?" Krel asked. "It's not like we can take him to a hospital."

"We'll figure it -" Two headlights suddenly turned onto the road in front of us, forcing me to swerve out of the way. "Shit!"

We slid off the road, me frantically swerving between the trees until we finally came to a stop in the mud. I panted over the wheel, shooting a glance at Krel. "You okay?"

He was crammed back in his seat, hands on the ceiling and feet up on the dash. "Fine."

"There they are!" Garrison shouted from the road.

I slammed my foot on the gas, but the car just shuddered in place, the wheels caught in mud.

"Damn kids!"

"Go," I told Krel, shoving the gun into his lap. "I'll distract them, you run."

"What? No!"

"Krel, you have to -"

"I'm not going anywhere!"

The whole truck went dark, the radio silencing and the engine dying along with it. Everything was just eerie silence.

Krel looked down at his hands. "Um . . ."

"Get out of the car," The cyclist called, only ten feet away. "And this doesn't have to get ugly."

"Believe me," I shouted back. "This got ugly a while ago."

I heard the rifle cock, signaling for both Krel and I to drop to the floor as we braced for the shots. But nothing happened.

"Oh like hell I'm gonna let you shoot my truck!"

"You wanna get paid or not!"

"Krel," I hissed against the carpet. "You need to run."

"Then it's too damn bad I'm not going anywhere."

I gritted my teeth. "This isn't a joke, Krel!"

Shots rang out, but they weren't from a rifle - something much smaller. Then the sound of bodies collapsing against the grass. Then approaching footsteps.

My hand was clammy as it pulled the gun off of Krel's lap again. It was already loaded, already cocked. All I would need to do was fire.

Krel and I backed up against the side of the passenger seat, me crouched in front of him, the gun aimed at the driver's side window. I slid my finger onto the trigger.

The footsteps were slow as they rounded the car, coming towards the driver's door. Those moments were so still compared to everything else. So quiet. So much worse.

A figure appeared in the window but it was too dark for me to make out a face. I felt a bead of sweat roll down the back of my neck. The door opened.

I pulled the trigger.

The shot shattered the silence, throwing me into Krel so hard it probably knocked the wind out of him. The figure dropped in the darkness, the door hanging wide open.

"Did I hit him?" I squeaked.

"No," A voice sounded from behind the door. "One does not simply _hit_ Varvatos Vex."

A wave of relief crashed over me as his familiar face came into view. "Varvatos!"

I dropped the gun, Krel and I launching into the geezer's arms. He squeezed us till I thought I would pop, but somehow, it wasn't tight enough.

"Are you both alright?"

Krel and I looked at each other, him giving me a gentle nod.

"We're fine," I said.

"What a glorious triumph!" Varvatos cried. "You both faired so well in the face of danger."

"No, no," I shook my head. "That was one of the scariest moments of my life, I . . ." I looked down at my shaking hands. "I'm still afraid."

"Of course you were afraid!" Varvatos almost laughed. "What warrior isn't?"

I shrugged.

He laid a hand on my shoulder. "Varvatos is constantly afraid for you younglings, but you didn't let fear hold you back. You kept fighting. And Varvatos is very proud of you."

We drove back to what was left of our previous car to salvage what we could from it. I made a makeshift sling for Varvatos's sprained wrist out of Krel's jacket. And then we drove off, all through the rest of the night and into the day. Krel and I fell asleep leaning on each other on the floor somewhere around two in the morning, so Varvatos had to shake us awake for breakfast.

"Just sit tight," He said, tapping the glove box where the nine millimeter sat. "I'll be back in a minute."

I rubbed my eyes, feeling sluggish as I watched Krel pull open his laptop. "What are you doing?"

"I'm trying to figure out what those guys said to us last night," He replied, squinting into the screen.

I rubbed my temples. "You mean the color thing?"

"Bingo," Krel sang. "It's some kind of . . . classification system?"

I squinted over his shoulder. "Isn't that how they classify terrorists?"

"Yes," He said. "But it looks like they adapted the system for the Psi kids."

"Figures."

"It says here that there are five different abilities IAAN can cause adolescents to develop."

"That's an awful lot of big words for seven-thirty in the morning."

"The least dangerous are the Greens, they've got photographic memories and 'raised intellect'."

I laid back down on the seats. "Lively."

"Next in line are Blues, they've got telekinesis."

"Mhmm."

"Aja," He said. "You need to hear this. It's important."

"Sorry," I sighed. "I'm just . . . drained."

"From last night?"

"I guess."

He looked back to his screen, scrolling up and down to preoccupy himself. "From when you did the mind thing, or . . .?"

I didn't reply.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

"Not really."

His eyes narrowed into the screen. But I knew it wasn't anything on the webpage that had him so pissed.

"I know you're mad -"

"Oh, I'm furious." He closed his laptop and sat beside me on the seats."But not at you."

I sat up. "You're not?"

He shook his head. "What you did got us out of there. I'm proud of you, Aja."

I looked down at my lap. "I don't feel very proud."

"That's why I'm here," He bounced his elbow against mine. "To be proud for you."

"Does that mean you're gonna tell Varvatos?"

Krel snorted. "Are you kidding? If I told Varvatos, he'd start World War III."

I laughed, probably a lot harder than I should've right then, but it felt good anyway.

"Besides," He shrugged. "It was enough fun throwing the douche-bag out of the truck."

I snickered. "Tell me about it."

"Throwing who out of what?" Varvatos poked his head in through the door of the truck.

"Nothing!" Krel and I blurted.

He rolled his eyes, handing us togo boxes of scrambled eggs. "What are you princelings doing?"

"We're looking at the classification system for Psi kids," Krel said, picking up his laptop. "The trolls last night mentioned something about a color-coded system, so we're checking it out."

"Color-coded?" Varvatos asked. "Does that mean you know what your own colors are?"

Krel scrolled through the page. "In order from least to most dangerous, it's Greens. Blues, Yellows, Oranges, and Reds."

"Didn't he call us a Yellow and an Orange?" I asked. "What do those guys do?"

"Yellows are elektrokinesis," He paused, looking down at his hands. "Which makes sense."

"What about Oranges?"

Krel's brows furrowed together back at the screen. "That's weird."

"What?"

"It's not really one specific ability," He replied. "It's more of an umbrella list."

I felt my eyebrows pinch together, something gnawing at my insides. "What does that mean?"

He squinted. "They don't really understand what Oranges can do. Apparently it's a rare ability, not to mention it's not exactly a physical one so it's hard to monitor."

I glanced at the screen. "So, this is just a list of what they've seen other Oranges do?"

"That's what it looks like."

I scanned it over:

Alter feelings of others

Creating visual and auditory illusions

Read the thoughts and memories of others

Directing foreign messages into another person's mind

The last two caught my attention the most. I thought back to when I'd pushed the words '_Untie me_' into Ty's brain. I thought back to when I'd punched Steve in the face and watched his whole life in a split second.

"What are you thinking, my princess?" Varvatos asked.

I pursed my lips. "Not sure."

"What do you mean?"

I shrugged. "I guess I'm just wondering if I can do all those things, or just a few of them, or maybe different things that PSFs don't even know about yet. I guess . . . I just want to know what's wrong with me."

"There is nothing wrong with either of you," Varvatos said. "My princelings. These new abilities can be frightening but only because you do not understand them yet. And Varvatos Vex will do whatever is necessary to aid with that understanding."

I smiled, my chest feeling a little lighter. "Thank you, Varvatos."

"Anything for you, my royals."


	7. 7

**Faith In Humanity Restored**

Our second big scare was almost three weeks later.

We'd been driving on our routine, nothing really changing besides Varvatos teaching me how to use the nine millimeter. He'd buy a whole pack of Diet Coke and the three of us would drink ourselves silly over it. The next day, we'd use the empty cans for target practice. He also started teaching us wrestling more often, actually showing us techniques and making us practice them rather than just having us do it for fun.

Slowly, the techniques would turn from the sport, to just basic self defense. The more intense it got, the more Krel opted out to mess around on his laptop, which left me sparring with Varvatos for hours on end. I'd be aching in places I didn't know I had by the time it was over, but the shot of adrenaline was worth it.

Through the weeks leading up to it, mine and Krel's abilities started acting up more. Especially Krel's. After a whole two hours of sparring with Varvatos, I came back to find Krel desperately trying to mend his burnt and busted laptop.

"I don't know how it happened," He'd choked. "It just started sparking and then . . . I couldn't get it working again."

And for good reason.

Everything inside the computer had been fried. Several circuit boards had even melted together. It was beyond saving. Varvatos ended up shoplifting a second one the next night, but Krel refused to touch it for three whole days. He made up excuses about being tired or his neck hurting, but I could still see the fear in his posture.

I knew that fear. Every time someone came within twelve inches of me, I knew that fear. Of getting trapped in someone else's mind. Of forcing things in that mind.

Of taking things from that mind.

Just the thought of that power was terrifying. Knowing that I could force something on someone, twist them from the inside out, whether I wanted to or not.

But after what happened with the trolls, I decided to start wearing short sleeves. I just had to learn to keep my distance.

Speaking of trolls, I never could let it go of what happened. I kept expecting to just wake up one day and be over it. But, no matter how many days passed, I wasn't. Horribly vivid nightmares refused to let me sleep in peace. Nightmares where it went further. Where I didn't have crazy super powers to stop him. And that feeling of helplessness, never really left me.

I tried to keep quiet about it from Varvatos, but when I was waking up in a cold sweat almost every night, he took to noticing. But he thought it was the stress of always being on the run and I just let him keep thinking that.

It got to the point where I didn't even want to sleep. One night, out of pure exhaustion, I passed out beside Krel on the seats. Somehow, we'd managed to brush arms and not even an hour later we were both bolting up in a cold sweat. He'd seen the nightmare, I knew it just by looking at his face. I'd somehow shown it to him by accident. And it gave me the migraine of a lifetime.

But it was more than that. It was the look of hurt in Krel's eyes. How broken it made me feel.

"Aja," He said, reaching for me but I threw myself back.

We were parked at the side of an abandoned road at the time, Varvatos asleep in the driver's seat. So I threw open the door and collapsed into the road, my headache barely allowing me to stay conscious. I didn't want to be touched. I didn't want Krel back in my head and I didn't want to be in his. I wanted nothing to do with that kind of violation.

With any kind of violation.

"Aja, wait!"

I was panting, leaning against the car door with my knees at my chest as I held my head. "Just go back to sleep, Krel."

"What do you mean?" He asked. "Are you okay? Your nose is bleeding."

I felt the hot liquid drip down over my lip, but I didn't care. "It doesn't matter -"

"You've been having all these nightmares," He said. "Is that what they're all about? Aja, why didn't you tell me?"

"Please, just go back to sleep!" That's when the tears started, raking down my face without my permission. "Please, Krel," I buried my face in my hands. "Please just go."

But he didn't. Instead, he sat there beside me all night. Just so I wouldn't be alone.

A few days later, we were somewhere around Illinois, and I had just finished taking a polaroid of the three of us in front of a city sign when Varvatos offered me another driving lesson. It being near midnight, Krel fell asleep in the back while I drove up and down the road we were on. Just as I was making a turn, the truck shuddered for a moment. This awful, scraping noise echoed from under the dash. And then we just stopped, the truck going dark.

I glanced back at Krel, seeing him grimace in his sleep.

"Krel?" I asked. "Krel, get up."

"My prince," Varvatos said louder. "Wake up."

But Krel just twitched.

Suddenly the radio started blasting. The lights above us began blinking, the headlights going on and off. I watched the battery on the dashboard go from empty to full over and over. I slammed my hand against the radio buttons, but none of them were working. It didn't matter what buttons I pushed or what gears I pulled, it was like the truck suddenly had a mind of its own.

"Krel!" Varvatos reached back and grabbed Krel's shoulder. "Wake up!"

Krel bolted up with a scream, throwing his hands up defensively in front of him. The radio crackled with sparks, right as my hand was still hovering over it.

A horrible sting went through my palm, forcing me to rip my hand back against my chest. I squeezed my eyes shut, clutching my wrist as the white, hot pain took over my hand.

"What has happened?" I felt Varvatos's hands tugging at my arm.

I shook my head, shrinking back.

"Aja, let Varvatos see," He pulled my arm away from my body, forcing me to open my palm. Tears began pricking my eyes just by looking at it. The entirety of my palm had been skinned, the flesh red, puffy, and shiny. The veins beneath it had been raised, turning a dark purple as they neared the surface.

The pain came in waves, like a thousand hot needles pricking at me mercilessly. Again and again till I could scarcely breathe.

"Did I -" Krel's voice broke, blood dripping over his lips. "I didn't mean to - I didn't - I'm so sorry, Aja -"

"Krel, give Varvatos your water bottle, quickly!"

Krel stumbled around the back seat, finally tossing the bottle to Varvatos, like he couldn't wait to get it out of his hands.

Varvatos ripped off the cap and dumped the entire contents of the bottle over my hand, the pain firing all the way up to my elbow. I turned away, clamping a hand over my mouth to keep in the sob.

"Hold your breath, Aja," Varvatos grunted. "It won't be much longer."

With the bottle empty, he threw open the door, running to the truck bed to retrieve the first aid kit. Krel shrank back into the seats, stumbling out his own door just as Varvatos climbed back in.

"Wait, Krel -" But then Varvatos ran some kind of ointment over the burn and the pain flared up to my shoulder. It was all I could do to keep from screaming.

Varvatos wrapped a thick layer of gauze around the wound, then immediately jumped back out the door to chase after Krel. I watched the two of them through the rear view mirror, Varvatos gently approaching as Krel desperately tried to ward him off. Then I went after him, too.

"Krel," I called, jogging to catch up with them. "Krel, it's okay -"

"No it's not!" Hot, angry tears were running down his face. "I did that - I burned you. I didn't even mean to and I did it."

I tried to shrug it off. "It's not that bad -"

"Yes it is!" He screamed. "I can't control it, Aja!"

"Well I can't control it either!" I shouted back. "You don't think I know exactly how you feel? I don't just get into people's minds, I ruin them, Krel. Do you have any idea what that's like? Knowing you'll hurt anyone you touch?"

"Yes!" He roared. "I do! And look what happened!"

"Both of you, enough!" Varvatos shouted over both of us. "Nothing is going to come from screaming at each other, as much fun as it is. Now get back to the truck."

Krel shook his head, tucking his hands under his arms. "I'm not going in there again."

Varvatos and I exchanged a look, me finally looking down after a moment. He shook his head, walking towards the truck without us. When he came back, he was holding the nine millimeter.

"Stay behind the truck," He said, shoving the gun into my hands. "Varvatos will return shortly."

And then he walked away.

He didn't come back till sunrise, Krel and I spending the empty hours sitting at the road side silently. Varvatos returned with a whole bag of items, spreading them out in front of us on the road. A full burn kit for my hand. Aspirin. Migraine pills. Tissues. Ice packs. A red hoodie. And a pair of yellow, rubber gloves.

Krel used the tissues to stanch the blood in his nose, holding the ice packs over his bruised hands afterwards. We both popped some aspirin before Varvatos pulled the gauze off my hand, reapplying more ointments and forcing me to grit my teeth through the pain.

Varvatos held the gloves out to Krel. "These will contain whatever you cannot," He said. "Only until you learn to control it yourself."

Krel just looked at them. Then he looked at my burn. And he put the gloves on.

Varvatos picked up the hoodie, easing my arms into it without an explanation. It was ridiculously oversized. The hem reaching my mid thigh, and the sleeves hanging several inches off my hands. But he still zipped it all the way up to my neck.

"Varvatos does not wish for you to distance yourself," He said. "Varvatos suggests you keep wrapped up instead, and when there is danger, you can remove it."

I wrapped my floppy sleeves around me, nodding softly. I didn't trust myself to do anything else.

We all climbed back into the truck, Krel and I on opposite ends of the back seat, both staring out our respective window. Here we were, wrapped in a sort of armor to protect us from ourselves, supposed to be put at ease by the security of that. And neither of us felt any better.

Because it was all just a reminder that something was wrong with us.

Three or so days later, Krel and I were laying in the truck bed watching a movie he'd pirated on his laptop. We were half way through it when Varvatos came banging to tell us to turn it off. We were somewhere in Ohio, Varvatos estimated near a rehabilitation camp by the sheer number of PSFs hanging around the area.

We'd been hiding in the bed of the truck while getting through checkpoints for the last couple days. Varvatos would pull a tarp over us and we'd have to lay perfectly still, for however long it took for Varvatos's veteran history to get us through to the next town.

"Are we always gonna have to do this?" Krel asked as he closed the laptop.

Varvatos pulled the tarp tight. "No, just in this area."

I sighed at the blue covering over us. "I never thought I would miss being cramped on the floor of a car."

Krel gave me a weird look.

"What?" I shrugged. "It's hot, it's dirty, and it smells back here."

"And the car didn't?"

"Quiet," Varvatos barked from the wheel. "Both of you. Varvatos is approaching."

I took one last deep breath, forcing my heart to calm, my breathing to go soft, for all of me to go completely still. Completely silent. I felt Krel do the same thing beside me.

The heavy footsteps of a PSF officer approached the car, going straight for the driver. We caught muffles of their conversation. Something about respecting elders and veteran service. The cards Varvatos always played to get through the checkpoints without a search.

But then the sound of a door opening hit us.

"Varvatos Vex is in a terrible rush!" He was shouting, but his voice was getting further away. "You dare stand in the way of a veteran who has served your country? You dare call yourselves _American_?"

"Varvatos Vex will be right on his way," Another voice, a PSF. "We just need to ask some questions. Basic procedure."

"Varvatos Vex has never been so blatantly disrespected!"

"Yeah, they just updated the system."

Krel and I locked eyes. There was only one reason they would remove Varvatos from the vehicle. To search it.

We needed to get out of there. And we needed to do it now.

Easing myself up, I leaned over to the side of the truck bed, peeking out from under the tarp. I saw a line of cars leading down the road, PSFs swarming them. I dropped back down, my heart hammering with terror. What were we gonna do now?

"Ugh!"

A few other shouts were heard from the left side of the truck, from another car.

"Man, how old is this stuff?"

"It smells like something died in here."

"Heh, don't be so sure."

The smell hit us a second later, making me clamp a hand over my now burning nose. It was by far, the single most horrendous thing I'd ever smelt. And judging by Krel's silent gag, he completely agreed. Like spoiled meat and rotten eggs had been blended into a smoothie.

Okay, imagining that was not helping.

Krel tapped my elbow, giving me a pointed look towards the edge of the tarp. They were distracted. Time to go.

I gave him a nod, watching him slowly pry up the tarp. All the officers were on the left side of the truck, preoccupied with the worst smell in existence. If we stayed low, quiet, and to the right, we might actually have a chance.

Krel jumped out first, dropping behind the tire and ducking against the truck bed. I slid out second, wincing at the grinding sound my shoes made on the gravel. None of the officers seemed to notice.

'Now what?' Krel mouthed to me.

I bit my lip, scanning the area. There was what looked to be an abandoned . . . cafe? Diner? It didn't matter. It was across the street and there was no one inside it.

I nodded my head towards it, Krel repeating it back to me in agreement. I risked a peek over the truck, catching the officers still looking through the smelly car.

_Now or never, Aja._

Gripping his hand through the rubber glove, I took off towards the nearest car, ducking beneath it. When no one noticed, we bolted to the next one. And the next one. Till we were hiding behind a minivan not five feet from the back door of the diner. There was a large pine tree overshadowing the entrance, giving us just enough cover to be able to slip through.

That's when I started peeling the oversized hoodie off of me.

"What are you doing?" Krel whispered.

"Giving Varvatos a clue."

Reaching up, I hung my hoodie on one of the prickly branches over the door before we both ducked inside. The restaurant itself was dark, but clean too. It didn't feel abandoned now that we were wandering it's bleached halls. Infact, it looked more like . . . it was under maintenance.

"Please!"

The woman's voice nearly had me jumping out of my skin. Krel and I backed against the wall of the hallway, me peering around the corner into a kind of lobby. The carpet had been ripped out and the wallpaper torn off. Behind a desk situated at the front of the room sat several PSFs, and several more adults all anxiously waiting to speak to the officers.

"I haven't seen my son in months," The woman at the desk cried. "I don't know where he is, but the officers told me he would be sent here if he was caught. If he's here, I just want to hear from him, to make sure he's okay."

I squinted at her. Petite frame. Short brown hair. Dark eyes. I'd never seen her before in my life. Then why did she look so familiar?

"Ma'am," The officer rubbed his temple. "I'm sure you've been told -"

"How can you do this?" She was trembling, tears streaming down her face. "You can't take my child from me."

"I can if it means protecting the rest of the population," The PSF replied. "Now please head back to your car."

_Had_ I seen her before? Or maybe she just had one of those faces. Jeez, this is gonna drive me crazy.

Krel bumped my elbow, snapping me out of my thoughts to nod towards the kitchen doors across the hallway from us. I sighed, glancing at the back door again. Varvatos would come looking for us soon, shouldn't we just stay put? Then again, hanging out in the open like this wouldn't be the greatest idea either.

"I drove all the way from California to be here," The woman pleaded. "Please, I can't leave until my son -"

"Mrs. Palchuk," Another officer took her by the arm. "If you'll come with me please."

_Palchuk._

Oh my God. She was _Steve's_ mom. Steve from Arcadia's mom. I recognized her from how she'd looked inside his head. He was here? As in, the camp two miles that way? When was the last time I'd even thought about Steve?

Oh, yeah.

I squeezed my eyes shut, shaking my head as Krel elbowed me again.

'What?' I mouthed.

He threw his angry eyes toward the kitchen doors again. 'Now.'

I glanced back at Steve's mother, watching the PSFs drag her back out to her car as she cried. My heart ached, the pain reaching all the way down to my core. I'd never known the woman, but I knew the things her and Steve had been through together. To survive all of that, just to lose him now? I couldn't even imagine.

Oh wait.

I could.

Krel's hand closed around my wrist, wrenching me across the hallway and throwing the two of us through the kitchen doors with a single tug. The doors barely made a breeze of sound, and the officers were too preoccupied with escorting Mrs. Palchuk out to notice anyway. Not to mention all the other people trying to talk to them.

Now that I was paying attention, all the guests were acting like Mrs. Palchuk had. They all had the same slouch of their shoulders. Teary, swollen eyes. Shuffling feet. Wandering glances. They were all scared.

They were all . . ._ parents_.

"Aja," Krel hissed. "Get away from the door."

I stepped back into the dark kitchen. "I think that lady out there was Steve's mom."

"Steve?" Krel's brows pinched together. "The lumbering oaf from Arcadia?"

I nodded.

"He's . . . here?"

I didn't answer, something inside me sinking.

Krel's rubber gloves touched my arm. "Are you okay?"

I shrugged. "I just wish there was something we could do. I mean, think about it. All the kids we used to go to school with are either in camps or on the run, like us. And it's not like all of them have a Varvatos to protect them." I sighed. "It isn't right. And it's like nobody cares. We're just a bunch of kids and everyone's left us to fend for ourselves."

Krel looked down. "I never thought about it that way."

I wrapped my arms around myself. "I hate being so helpless."

"Hey," Krel rapped his gloves against my arm again. "Look."

I turned towards him to see the small window he was pointing towards. The blinds were open, revealing the three PSFs rummaging through the back of our truck. Varvatos came sprinting from the building opposite us, his face completely pale.

"GET AWAY FROM FROM THERE!"

I could hear him all the way through the glass, the officers jumping back in fear. But they'd already pulled off the tarp, and no one was there. Varvatos was staring wide eyed at the empty truck bed, glancing around anxiously for us. The head PSF began shooting Varvatos suspicious looks, and I knew why. Varvatos didn't look like a veteran anymore. He looked like a parent.

I leaned back from the window. "We need to get out there."

"Uh, no," Krel said. "We really don't. It's swarming with PSFs."

"We've gotta get back to the truck somehow."

"No," He replied. "We need to get Varvatos in _here_ somehow."

"Well until he sees that hoodie, I don't think we're going anywhere."

"Hey!" A voice boomed from the hallway. "Who's in there?"

_Shit_.

Krel and I simultaneously ducked beneath the counter top, crouching under the steel bars and squishing against the cupboards. When the doors burst open, I saw the boots of a PSF parading forward.

"Come clean now and your punishment will be far less severe," The officer growled.

I tucked my knees closer to my torso, my heart frozen in my chest. The PSF's boots stalked slowly around the kitchen, edging closer and closer to the counter. I didn't even realize I was gripping the rubber around Krel's wrist until my knuckles started aching.

"There a problem, sir?"

Another one, out in the hallway.

"I heard someone in here."

"Could've been a raccoon, sir," The second officer said. "There's tons of those things near these woods."

"No," The PSF said. "I heard voices."

On the last word, the officer slammed his fist down on the roof of the counter, rattling it above our heads as the noise rang in our ears. I dug my fingernails into the rubber, not even letting myself breathe.

"Sir, we have a situation outside."

"What about?"

"The veteran?" The second officer said. "We found a box of tampons in his truck."

I felt all the color drain from my face. Krel's head whipped towards me.

No. Oh, please, _please_, no.

Varvatos had packed a tampon box into my bag before we left Arcadia, and he'd been swiping a few here and there ever since. He'd gotten me a box a month or so ago and put it under the seat for safekeeping.

But I'd skipped my period this month. And no one had thought to move it.

"He gotta wife?" The PSF asked.

"Nope," I could almost hear him smiling. "But you know what he does have? Strong relations with the Tarrons."

Krel and I tensed at the mention of our name. Were our parents that popular?

"Let me guess," The PSF snickered. "They've got a teenage daughter."

"Bingo."

"Time for some old fashioned grilling, Sam," The PSF laughed on his way out the door. "Us seniors will show you how it's done. Speaking of which, you there! Sweep the area, starting with the kitchens!"

Adrenaline in me spiked. We needed to move and we needed to do it now.

Still clinging to Krel's wrist, I yanked him up and darted across the room, behind the fridge that was triple the size of the ginormous fridge. My heart was pounding, my mind scattered. I didn't know what to do. I didn't even know what we _could_ do. Grab the officer and convince him he never saw us? What if I couldn't pull that off in time?

The doors to the kitchens burst open again, heavy footsteps entering. My mouth went dry, Krel pulling me down the wall and around a corner behind the trash cans. There, just across from us, was a hallway leading out to a glass door. I could see the daylight coming through the surface of it. I could almost touch it.

All we had to do to get there, was cross an open hallway. A hallway in perfect view of the PSF currently searching the kitchens.

I looked to Krel, signaling him with a nod. The sooner we ran for it the better. We crouched down, ready to pounce up and sprint away. Just like Varvatos had taught us. But before we could, the PSF rounded the corner into our hallway.

I ripped Krel back, the two us falling silently against the opposite wall, the PSF's back to us. I didn't move. I didn't breathe. I just sat there, God knows how long, staring at the officer's back and pleading for him not to turn around.

But then he did.

My heart stopped all together. I felt Krel freeze beside me. Everything went horribly silent. Nobody moved. Nobody spoke. All three of us just stared at each other.

The officer's radio crackled to life.

"Area clear?" The static asked.

I moved in front of Krel, desperately searching for a way around the officer. But the AK 47 in his hands was making that a little difficult.

"Officer," The static barked. "Is the area clear or not?"

Was this it? This is how it ends for us? Maybe they'd send us to Caledonia. Maybe we'd see Steve there.

"Area clear."

I blinked. I heard him wrong, I must have. I heard him wrong and we needed to run.

"Sorry, can you repeat that?"

I saw the whites of his eyes through the helmet mask.

"Area clear."

Did he know what he was saying?

"Alright," The static announced. "All available units come to the wooded area surrounding the road for the search. Form a blockade on the entrance, no one gets in or out until we track down the fugitives."

"Copy," The officer replied, shutting the radio off.

Then everything went quiet again.

"You . . ." I stuttered. "You called off the search."

"I didn't call it off," He reached up, undoing the buckle underneath his helmet. "I simply moved it somewhere else."

My eyes nearly bugged out of my head. "Señor _Uhl?"_ The Austrian Spanish teacher?

"Hello, Miss Tarron."

Krel poked his head around my shoulder. "How many people from Arcadia are here?"

Señor Uhl chuckled, as though laughing at an inside joke. "Much more than you would think."

I felt myself back up. "Why are you helping us?"

His smile faded, his gun lowering to the ground. "Why would I not?"

My mouth opened to say something, but nothing came out.

"Because no one helps us," Krel said.

Footsteps suddenly sounded outside, voices and shouts nearing the entrance before us. Señor Uhl whipped around to face the door, then turned back to us, scooping up his gun and beckoning us after him. "Quickly."

Neither one of us moved.

"If you want to live, you will come," Señor Uhl's eyes flared. _"Quickly."_

Exchanging a glance, Krel and I finally ran after him, following him out the kitchen and into the hallway. He guided us down through the building, into what looked like a serving area before it had been completely gutted. That's when I caught a glimpse of Varvatos still screaming at the PSFs out the window.

"We need to get back to our grandpa," I said.

"I understand," Señor Uhl replied. He led us to some kind of storage closet, gesturing inside. "Stay here and stay quiet. I will be back once everything has calmed down again."

I crouched onto the dusty floor beside Krel, pushing ourselves as far back as we could. Just before Señor Uhl closed the door, I caught it with my hand.

"Wait."

He turned towards us again. "What? Are you hurt?"

"No," I said. "I just . . . thank you."

He smiled. "You're welcome."

And he closed the door.

We sat in the damp darkness for hours. Till the sun set and the voices of PSFs faded out entirely. It was so still, I was beginning to think Señor Uhl had abandoned us. But then, just as Krel and I were starting to doze off, footsteps came pounding towards the door.

We both jerked up, ducking away from the door as someone approached. "Aja? Krel?" Señor Uhl called before opening the door. "Are you alright?"

We nodded, pulling ourselves up to stretch out our cramping legs.

"Come on, then," He said, guiding us back through the building. "We don't have much time."

We followed him to the back door with the pine tree hanging over it. But my hoodie was gone and so were all the cars. The only car out there was a pickup truck stopped right in front of the door, Varvatos in the driver's seat.

"This was found on the property," Señor Uhl held out my hoodie. "It didn't belong to anyone here, so I assumed it was one of yours."

I took it from him. "Thanks."

"Get to the truck bed," He said. "I already gave Varvatos the clearance to get out of Ohio."

We nodded, backing up towards the door. I paused to look over my shoulder. "Thank you," I said again. "For everything."

He just nodded back. "Stay safe."

"You too." And then we took off into the dark.

I laid on my back, staring at the blue tarp above us as Varvatos drove off, something in me still spinning. Not with fear, with . . . hope. After everything that's happened, it had been so long since I'd seen the good in a person win. After losing Mama and Papa. After our run in with the trolls. It was nice to know the good in people still existed.

Varvatos stopped in a clearing of trees at sunrise. Krel and I sat perched on the rim of the truck bed while Varvatos filled the tank with the gasoline he'd bought in the last town over.

"I think we should celebrate," I said.

"Our glorious victory?" Varvatos asked. "Varvatos completely agrees!"

"Victory?" Krel rolled his eyes. "That was not a victory, that was a close one."

"And it would've been the last one if not for Señor Uhl," I said. "I think we should celebrate that."

"I thought you already said 'thank you' to him."

"Not as a 'thank you', just," I sighed. "I don't know, it's nice to know good people still exist. And I think we should celebrate it."

"Varvatos agrees the actions of your Spanish instructor were noble, indeed," He lowered the gallon of gasoline. "Perhaps we should celebrate them."

"It's weird though," Krel said. "I mean, the same guy that used to give us detention just saved our lives."

I laughed. "Who knew, right?"

"And I wonder what he meant when he said other people from Arcadia were here. Isn't Arcadia Oaks in California?" Krel asked. "As in, the other side of the US?"

Varvatos shrugged. "Rehabilitation camps must be at full capacity on the west coast. In that case, PSFs would move children to larger camps."

"Why are all the big ones on the east coast?"

"Cause that's where IAAN started," Krel replied. "Remember?"

I twisted my lips to the side. "There's got to be something we can do for those kids," I said. "I mean, how many are in camps by now? Hundreds? Thousands? Señor Uhl found a way to help us, we have to find a way to help them."

"Your Spanish instructor is an officer," Varvatos replied. "He carries authority neither you nor Varvatos can obtain."

"Still."

"Wait," Krel said. "I think I remember reading something like that."

"Like what?"

"Like kids helping kids," He said. "I think it was called . . . the Children's League?"

Something in Varvatos's face changed.

"They recruit kids and have them help fight against the jurisdiction over Psi kids," He squinted at the sky. "And some other stuff I can't remember. I read the article a while ago."

"That sounds lively!" I turned to Varvatos. "Have you heard of it before?"

He didn't answer right away. "Yes, Varvatos has."

"Maybe we should check them out," I suggested. "Maybe we wouldn't have to run everywhere if they were an actual organization."

"No," Varvatos said. "We are not doing that."

"Why not?" I asked. "We don't have to _join_ them, I guess. Just check them out."

"We aren't doing that either."

"But we might be able to help someone," I said.

"Not to mention it might be safer if we had an ally like them," Krel added.

"The answer is no," Varvatos snapped. "Get back in the truck bed. We are leaving."

"They would have access to technology we don't," Krel continued. "They might be able to help us find our parents."

"No -"

"How can you say 'no' to that?" I asked. "Finding Mama and Papa is priority one -"

"No, Varvatos keeping you princelings alive is priority one."

"But -"

"But nothing!" He shouted. "This is an organization the two of you know nothing about! It is unwise and unsafe!"

"So what are we supposed to do?" Krel replied. "Lay in the back of this car for the rest of our lives? You can't expect this road trip to last forever."

"It will last for as long as Varvatos needs it to!"

"I thought you said you'd heard about the Children's Lead -"

"_League_," Krel corrected.

"If you know about it, why is it so unwise?"

"Because Varvatos knows they are not as they seem!" His face was bright red. "They. Are. Dangerous."

"How would you even know that?" Krel asked. "They were organized a few years after the camps were put up. By that time, you were with Mama and Papa on Akiridion-5 Base. And then you were with us."

Varvatos became very quiet.

"Varvatos?" I asked. "Were the Children's Lead on Akiridion-5 Base, too?"

He almost didn't answer.

"No," He finally said. "But they were known on the base."

"So that's where you've heard of them."

". . . Yes."

"What you heard could've been rumors," Krel said. "The article I read made them look like terrorists, but that's just the default these days for when the government wants people to hate something. It's exactly what they did with Psi kids. But if we could actually find their motives -"

"Varvatos knows their motives," He said. "Varvatos knows they cannot be trusted."

"How?"

He sighed, his head bowing. "Your parents," He said. "They had many relations with the League."

"_What_?" I just about jumped off the truck. "That's all the more reason to look for them! They might know where Mama and Papa are -"

"They do not," Varvatos said. "Varvatos assures you. They do not."

"But they still would know -"

"The League is the reason your parents sent you with Varvatos in the first place."

Krel and I went quiet.

"But," Krel looked down at his gloves. "I thought -"

"Your parents came with the same intentions you have," He said. "But they became reluctant to fully join the longer they stayed. In the end, they became fearful the League was watching them, that they may be looking for a reason to turn them in." Varvatos hung his head. "The League found one eventually."

I felt salt burn in my throat. "That's why they were arrested."

He could barely manage a nod.

"Why . . ." Krel asked. "Why didn't you just tell us?"

"Varvatos wishes to protect you princelings," He replied. "Varvatos thought it would only bring pain to know who had taken your parents from you."

"We could've handled it," Krel said. "This whole time I've been looking for them, it would've been nice to know."

"Varvatos apologizes for it," He said. "But reminds you that Varvatos is also looking for them."

"We want to help," I said.

"Varvatos understands," He said. "But for now, we should leave."

Krel and I didn't say anything after that. We sat there for a minute more, just pondering the new information, and how far we'd had to push to get it. What else was Varvatos keeping from us?

That was the first time I'd ever doubted my trust in him.

Laying back down in the truck, the tarp pulled tightly over us, I leaned over and whispered to Krel.

"We could still use the Leave to track Mama and Papa," I said.

"Again, it's _League_," He shot me a glance out of the corner of his eye. "And what are you talking about?"

"If they were affiliated with them," I continued. "They could've established some kind of safehouse. They could still have allies there that helped them escape."

"Yeah, they _could_," He repeated. "Those aren't exactly the best odds."

"But isn't it worth the risk?"

He sighed at the blue covering above us. "What's your plan?"

"We somehow get into their servers -"

"You mean _I_ somehow get into their servers."

"- and try to find a trail," I finished. "You can hack them, can't you?"

He shrugged. "I guess? I don't know, Aja. It would take time - and a _much_ better computer."

"Okay, okay," I spread my hands. "Let's say we get you the perfect computer, and we've got nothing but time on this road trip, could you do it then?"

He sighed again. "Maybe. I'd need to do more research on their databases. Varvatos was right when he said we know nothing about them."

"But _hypothetically_ -"

"The answer is maybe, Aja."

I gave him a weird look. "You hacked our base."

"Yeah, because I've done it literally hundreds of times while we were still there," He said. "I don't have the same familiarity with the League."

"That's okay," I said. "We'll just have to get familiar."

"Well, yeah. That's what the research would be for."

"How long do you think it's gonna take?"

He ran a hand through his hair. "Probably a lot longer than we'd like."

"But we'll do it," I said. "We'll find them."

"Yeah," Krel said. "We will."


	8. 8

**That Stupid Strip Of Skin**

Neither of us mentioned our 'extracurriculars' to Varvatos. I wouldn't call it lying since he technically never asked if we were going behind his back, so therefore we never said we weren't doing it.

We did most of our research on Krel's laptop, hacking different servers and even some news stations, drinking up everything we could find. For the most part, the organization was made out to be a terrorist group after they claimed several bombings in DC. And a couple shootings. And some death threats.

"I'm starting to realize why Mama and Papa didn't like these guys," I said one afternoon. "They're really . . . violent."

"It's a fear tactic," Krel shrugged. "It's how they get what they want."

"I don't think I like them either."

Weeks passed, days spent sparring with Varvatos or hiding in the truck bed. Krel and I had a fairly good handle on what the Children's Lead was at that point, and not all of it was negative, believe it or not.

"They actually broke kids out of a camp?" I asked early one morning.

"Yeah," Krel replied. "It looks like they've rescued over forty kids."

"Forty?"

"Yep."

I pinned my lips together. "That's not exactly a lot."

"It's more than zero."

"I guess there's that."

Krel had begun hacking into their servers in the early summer, spending long nights in front of the screen and longer days knocked out in the truck bed. Varvatos said I was getting good enough with the nine millimeter to be able to carry it. And we were getting better and better at avoiding incidents.

Which is why the last incident we had, was the last day we were together. The day Varvatos looked over Krel's shoulder while he was working and found out what we were hiding.

"Varvatos told you to stay away from them!" He roared. "You dare defy Varvatos?"

"We need to find Mama and Papa!" I shouted back. "This is the best way to do it! And you expect us to pass up that opportunity just because you said no?"

"Varvatos is trying to protect you!" A vein popped out of his neck. "You must trust Varvatos."

No one said anything for a moment. And then Krel spoke up. "Maybe you should trust us too."

"What?" Varvatos barked.

"I'm just saying," Krel threw up his hands. "If you want us to trust you, then help us. It isn't safe? Newsflash, nowhere is safe, and you've gotten us this far. We can do this."

"Varvatos forbids it!"

"We're hacking them!" I threw my head back. "Not marrying them!"

"The answer is no!"

"You can't do that!"

"Watch Varvatos!"

He reached out to push me into the back seat of the truck, probably so we could drive off and I would be forced to be quiet, but I scooted myself back out of spite. Varvatos's hand fell without the contact of my shoulder, brushing against my ankle as it dropped - right where the pant leg pulled above my sock. That stupid strip of exposed skin changed my entire life. For better or worse, I don't know. I'm not even sure if I want to know.

The second his fingertips hit my skin, my vision bled away. I was swept away in a river of memories. The view of the Vietnam mountains. The sounds of an old piano. The smell of dirt and blood after a battle. The way gunpowder feels when you rub it between your fingers.

All of it flooding my system, pushing down my throat and smothering out my breath. I couldn't get a grip on anything, everything moving past me so quickly it felt like I was tumbling underwater, unable to reach the surface.

Then something washed over me, bringing me to a slow stop. But it was heavy. It hurt. It ate away at me inside. I saw the gentle face of a wife. I saw the two, soft faces of the children she held. A girl and a boy.

I saw campfires with everyone gathered around, laughing and talking. I saw chaotic dinners and loud laughs. I saw ponytail ties and race cars. Sticky fingers and tomato sauce stains. I saw love and life. But that only made it hurt worse when all of it was taken away.

When those responsible got away with it.

I saw blood and police tape. I felt bitter anguish, grief and sorrow I hope to never know. I felt a burning flame in my chest. A flame that ate away everything inside me. Until there was nothing left to feel.

I saw the message relays, but not the ones with Mama and Papa. I saw secret meetings. I watched the faces of other members, the small smirk when they knew Varvatos wouldn't be able to refuse. The information was radioed over. Mama and Papa were prepared when it happened, like they knew one day it would.

Their voices were gentle coming through the radio that night. "I know it was you," Papa said. "Stand by me one last time, old friend. Protect my children, with your life if necessary." And then they were gone.

Guilt ate more than revenge. It melted everything down until he was living in a shell. But that didn't matter. What mattered was Krel and I. What mattered was keeping his last promise to Papa. To protect us with everything he had.

I threw myself back the instant I came up for air, my back slamming against the opposite door. My heart was beating so hard it rattled my ribcage. Blood was dripping down my chin. Tears in my eyes.

"You . . ." I could barely breathe, let alone speak. "It was because of you."

Fear flickered over his face. "What are you talking about?"

I felt my heart drop. I felt the sting of it in my throat. I just couldn't believe it.

"Aja," Varvatos said. "We need to get moving -"

"No," I sat up, shaking my head. "_No_."

"Aja?" Krel climbed into the passenger seat. "Are you okay?"

"Is it true?" I looked up at Varvatos. "Did you do this?"

His face went pallid.

"Is what true?" Krel leaned forward. "Aja, what's going on?"

I climbed out of the car, not looking away from Varvatos once. For the first time in my life, I watched him back up.

"Princeling," Varvatos held out his hands. "You must rest -"

"Tell me," I said. "Tell me it's not true."

"Aja -"

"Tell me!"

His eyes went down. Krel leaned out the passenger door, but he stayed quiet. I felt tears burn at my eyes. I could see my answer all over Varvatos's face.

"How could you?"

Varvatos didn't reply.

". . . How could he what?" Krel asked.

Varvatos didn't answer right away, his eyes searching the ground. He knew this day would come. And yet, he had still hidden it from us.

"Your parents," He said. "They . . . they were not the only ones to know the Children's League."

"You were too?" Krel said. "I mean, we assumed."

"Varvatos is the reason we were found," I mimicked Mama's sharp tone. "Varvatos turned us in."

Krel's face fell. ". . . What?"

Varvatos winced. "There is . . . more to it than that."

"This is ridiculous," I could see the fear in Krel's eyes. "Varvatos is many things. Overbearing? Constantly. A grump? Sure. But a traitor?"

"I saw inside his mind, Krel," I said. "It's the truth, isn't it?"

"This is not what Varvatos Vex intended to happen," He said. "Varvatos Vex radioed the information for the League, allowing them to alert PSFs. That is true. They promised no one would get hurt. But Varvatos knows he never should have trusted them. He was blinded by their promises. He was . . . _I_ was wrong."

"Get hurt?" Krel's eyes were filled with tears. "I got hurt. Our parents got hurt. Everyone was hurt by this! By you!" They were streaming down his face, his voice thick with fury.

I didn't want to believe it, I didn't want it to be true. But standing there, leaning against the car, a horrible ache in my chest told me it was. Suddenly I wasn't angry anymore. I was just still. Like everything inside me had shut down, leaving me alone to ache.

Suddenly, Krel shifted in the seat. I heard the pop of the glove box and then Krel leapt back onto the ground. He was holding the nine millimeter.

I jumped up from the car. "Krel, no -"

"He took everything from us, Aja!" He screamed. "Our home! Our parents! And for what reason?"

"Revenge," Varvatos said softly. "Many years ago, someone took Varvatos's family from him. Only the League had the resources for Varvatos to get his revenge," He looked up Krel. "Do not let your thirst for revenge destroy you as well -"

"Shut up!" Krel cut him off. "You don't have the right to speak to us like that anymore!"

My heart was pounding in my chest, but I didn't feel scared. I didn't feel anything. Just the deep ache every time I breathed.

"We can't just let this go," Krel hissed. "We can't let him get away with this."

Varvatos held Krel's gaze for a moment more, and then he bowed his head, bracing for the blow. But I could see the way Krel was trembling. I knew he couldn't do it.

I put my hand over the nine millimeter, lowering it. "Then why give Varvatos the glorious death he's always wanted?"

Krel didn't say anything for a moment. He just breathed, slowly relaxing as the tears dripped down his chin. "What did you have in mind?"

I had to swallow, straightening my back and lifting my chin, just the way Mama did when she needed to be Madam Ambassador Tarron. And I let my eyes bore through Varvatos.

"We leave him. And we never come back."

"No!" Varvatos lifted his head. "Varvatos's sworn duty is to protect -"

"Go away!" I screamed, shoving him back by his chest. I grabbed the gun from Krel's hands, holding it at my side. "Don't you understand? My brother may not be able to kill you, but I. _Will_. Give me the keys before I change my mind."

". . . They are in the ignition."

I whipped around, elbowing past Krel to climb into the car through the passenger side. I shoved the nine millimeter back into the glove box, slamming it shut before thumping into the driver's seat. My vision had been dyed red, fury burning inside me. I could feel myself shaking with it.

"We have the truck," I heard Krel say. "We have each other. We don't need you."

Then he climbed into the passenger seat beside me, and we drove off. I only looked back once, and Varvatos was looking at us too. But the fire in my chest dyed everything more red and I floored the gas pedal, watching everything turn to a blur.

I cried as I drove, my burning chest rising and falling. My knuckles were white against the wheel. My head was throbbing. But Krel was still. So completely still as he leaned against the window, his tears wetting the glass.

Neither of us spoke in those hours. There was nothing we could say to make it better.


	9. 9

**Blood / Water feat. Sabrina Carpenter**

We made it three days on our own. Three. Damn. Days.

We were living off of what we could salvage from abandoned grocery stores, since we didn't have a hundred year-old veteran to order food for us anymore. We did fine on food and water, and we only ran into squatters once. They weren't too territorial so we just booked it for the truck and managed to drive away.

But on the third day away from Varvatos, we crashed. We were driving on an old back road in West Virginia when some jackass rear ended us. We swerved a few times before they scraped against us again, forcing us off the road and directly into a telephone pole. Then they sped off.

My chest was crushed against the wheel, knocking the wind out of me and giving me a colorful bruise. Krel managed to smack his face into the floor from where we was laying down in the back, nearly smashing his nose. But no broken bones. No internal bleeding. We were lucky.

The engine, not so much.

The crumpled hood broke off as we tried to lift it, revealing what was left of the engine. I got Krel the tool box from the bed of the truck, but after a few hours of listening to him hammer away, I knew it was useless.

"I can't fix it," His head was bowed, tears on his cheeks. "I - I can't -"

"It's okay, Krel," I brushed his tears away and pulled him away from the hood. "We'll just walk to the next town and get another car there."

"There's nothing but woods for miles."

"This road has to go somewhere," I said. "We'll just follow it until we find something. Easy."

He looked back at the truck. "We barely have any water left."

"We've done the impossible before," I said. "We can do this."

I did my best to keep the fear from my voice. We were both exhausted, and now battered and bruised from the crash. We were low on water. Our car was useless. And the late summer sun was boiling over us.

But we couldn't stay here out in the open.

Krel sat against the dented-in hood while I packed what we could into our bags. Krel's laptop and the nine millimeter was first, then all the polaroids I'd taken, then the first aid and burn kit, and some water purifying tablets Varvatos had gotten for us. Those made me pause for a second, just holding them and thinking about when he'd pushed them into my hands. How he'd thought of everything we would ever need.

I shook off the memory and shoved the tablets in my pack.

We had three of the plastic water bottles left, a few cans of chili, and a box of granola bars. It wasn't much, but there wasn't much else we could take anyway. Besides, by the look of the road, it would only be a few days at most. We could do that.

"Krel," I laid his backpack beside him, kneeling down. "It's time to go."

He didn't answer. He just looked so tired. I was tired too.

"Krel, come on," My voice broke. I don't know why. "We need to go."

Nothing.

I pinned my lips together, tears pouring down my face. I knew he was ready to give up. And honestly, so was I. We'd come so far only to lose so much. Moving forward seemed so pointless against the inevitable.

I shuddered.

"Aja?"

I looked up at him. "What?"

"I'm tired."

"Me too."

"I'm tired of all of this," He said. "I'm tired of running and hiding. I'm tired of losing."

I bit back a sob. "Me too."

"I just want to go home."

The sob building up in my throat suddenly released. I leaned back on my knees. "Remember those guitars Mama and Papa got us for Christmas?"

Krel looked at me.

"Do you remember the first song we learned to play together?"

He had to think for a minute. "Sabrina Carpenter?"

I nodded. "Remember the words?"

He shrugged.

I thought back to the song, trying to hear it play in my mind. It'd been so long since we'd played that song together.

"_Good morning_," It was more breathing than it was singing, but it was enough for Krel to look up. "_You're leaving. I'll see you in the evening_."

He shifted, but he didn't join in.

"_My best friend, till the end. My better half, no pretend,_" I continued, gaining a little volume. "_Our language is sacred, though people try to solve it. New adventures on the way._"

"_You and me together,_" Krel barely mumbled it under his breath. "_Take on the world forever. I know all your secrets -_"

"_\- And I promise you I'm gonna keep them,_" I harmonized over his melody. "_I'll be there when you are feeling clueless. You and me, oh yeah, we're seamless._"

"_We're klutzy, but so lucky that I always have you to catch me,_" Krel continued.

"_We're partners in crime,_" I grasped his hand and eased him onto his feet, slipping his bag onto his shoulder. "_You're stuck with me your whole life. So different out of our minds. From a planet that's hard to find._"

"_Every second, everyday._"

"_You and me together, take on the world forever,_" We sang the chorus together, harmonizing just the way we had when we'd first learned it. As if no time had passed. "_I know all your secrets, and I promise you I'm gonna keep them. I'll be there when you are feeling clueless. You and me, oh yeah, we're seamless._"

I took his rubber-clad hand and pulled him several steps forward, walking him towards the woods before us. Close enough to see the road, but far enough so that the road couldn't see us.

"_You're right by my side, whenever I need you,_" I sang those words alone, the walking making Krel go silent. "_Through the hardest times, I'll be there for you -_"

"_\- At the crack of dawn, when the moon is gone,_" Krel joined back in. "_I won't be hard to find._"

"_Cause you and me, oh yeah, we're seamless._"

So we walked, on and on, straight into the unknown. Grasping hands and singing the last chorus of our song.

We sang the rest of the day, finally coming to a stop just as the sun was setting. You'd think it would've knocked the breath out of us by the end of the first hour, but the music kept us going somehow. We started remembering all the songs we used to play together and we just couldn't stop. All the harmonies, even some of the guitar chords, were flooding back between us. What I would've given to have my guitar then.

We slept in shifts, not that we could see much without any flashlights. We spent the daytime walking, hiding from the heat in the shade whenever we could, rationing our food and water, and then stopping again in the late evening. We continued for the next two days, then ran into our first problem.

My watch told me it was just after one in the afternoon when Krel stopped to lean on a tree.

"I don't feel so good," He muttered.

I stopped, glancing back at him. "We'll rest in a minute, okay?"

He cringed, gripping his stomach. "Aja?"

I looked back again. "Yeah?"

"I think I'm going to -"

I realized a split second before it happened. Krel dropped to his knees, reeling forward and vomited everything in his stomach onto the grass. I dropped down beside him, holding back his shaggy mess of hair while he retched. It had gotten so long since we'd been on the road. I made a mental note to get it cut for him.

He was gasping and panting by the time it was over, tears streaming down his face. "I'm sorry," He moaned. "I - I'm sorry -"

"It's okay, it's okay," I rubbed my hand over his back. "You don't need to be sorry. You need to drink something, alright?"

He grunted, sitting back up against the tree. "We have some water left?"

"Yeah," I slid my pack off my shoulder and pulled out a water bottle. "Try to finish it while you walk. Can you walk?"

He slowly nodded, despite how exhausted I knew he was. One hand in mine and the other anchored to the tree, he pulled himself up, taking the water bottle and trailing after me.

"Wait, Aja," I turned to look at him. "Is this the last one?"

The realization sunk in. I nodded.

"I can't finish it, we need to save this -"

"Krel," I interrupted. "Drink it."

He looked down at the bottle, barely a fourth of the way full. Then he looked back at me. "You first."

I waved him off, starting forward again. "I'm fine, Krel."

"I'm not drinking it until you do."

I looked back again with a sigh. He was holding the bottle out for me.

"You need it."

"And what? You don't?"

I snatched the bottle from his hands. "Fine." I threw my head back, letting the water splash against my chapped lips, but holding my tongue between them to block it. I forced my dry throat to swallow once, then I pulled the bottle off my mouth and handed it back to Krel.

It took him all of two seconds to notice the trick.

"I meant actually drink it," He said, clearly not amused.

"I said I'm fine -"

"I'm not a baby, Aja."

I blinked. "I know that."

"Then why do you keep treating me like one?"

I tossed up my hands. "You just threw up, Krel! You need water in your system."

"And all of the sudden you don't?"

I clenched my fists, a low growl coming from my throat.

"You don't have to take care of me -"

"Mama and Papa raised us to protect each other," I interrupted. "You're my little brother and I'm taking care of you whether you like it or not."

He folded his arms, settling for a glare.

"Drink while you glare," I said. "We need to keep moving."

"Guess we're not moving."

I whipped around. "What?"

"You drink first," He said. "Then we'll keep moving."

"Just drink it, Krel!"

"You first!"

"Ugh!" I threw my hands up again.

"Please, Aja," Krel held it out to me. I could see he didn't have the energy to fight anymore. "Think about it this way, you can't keep babying me if you die."

I hesitated, but then took the bottle from him. "I don't baby you," I muttered.

"Whatever you need to tell yourself."

I looked down at the bottle, the feeling of thirst taking over my mouth. Finally, I tilted my head back and took a long, cool swig, relishing the way it felt down my throat. Who says water doesn't taste good? Cause that was the best damn water I've had to date.

"Thanks," I said, passing it back to him.

"Yeah, yeah," He rolled his eyes, gulping the rest of the water down.

I laughed, taking his hand and continuing to pull him along with me. But the churning fear didn't leave the back of my mind. It was official now. We were out of water. The only chance we had now was to find some kind of lake or something.

We'd stayed by the road so far, knowing it would lead us to a town, but what if we had to stray from it for water? Would we be able to find our way back? Would it even matter?

That evening, we stopped in a small clearing, dense trees overhead. Krel more collapsed than he did stop, dropping onto all fours before I could catch him.

I fell next to him. "Are you okay?"

He was panting, we both were. But there was something different about his, it was scratchier. Like it hurt to breathe.

"I don't . . ." He could barely get the words out he was so out of breath. "I don't feel . . . good . . ."

That's when his elbows gave out and he more or less collapsed onto my lap.

I turned him over, situating his head on my thigh. "It's okay," I blurted. "It's okay, it's okay, it's going be okay - oh God you have a fever."

More than a fever. Like someone had set his brain on fire. That's probably what it felt like too.

"My head . . ."

I almost laughed. "I know what you mean."

His face was completely flushed, the rest of his skin growing pink. I'd noticed it yesterday, but I just thought it was a sunburn. I, myself, had been fried to the color of a tomato at this point. But holding my arm beside his, I could tell it was a different red.

That's when it set in.

Krel had heat stroke.

We were in the middle of nowhere-West Virginia. In the blistering heat. No water. Barely any food. And Krel had heat stroke.

My hands were trembling, whether from fear or exhaustion I don't know. I tore through our packs, looking for anything that might be useful. But of course, there wasn't. I remember learning about heat stroke in health class back in fourth grade. Something about ice packs and water, two things I couldn't give him.

I touched his burning forehead again, feeling how clammy it was. "Krel?" I asked. "Krel, can you hear me?"

He gave a slow nod.

I bit my lip, tears filling my eyes. What was I supposed to say to him? That he was sick and there was nothing I could do about it?

"Come on," I said, gritting my teeth as I pulled him up to lean on my shoulder. "We're gonna keep moving."

"I . . . I can't . . ."

"I know," I hung his arm over my neck. "Just try and keep your feet under you, okay?"

I forced myself onto one knee, one arm wrapped around Krel's waist and the other gripping his wrist as it dangled across my shoulders. With a grunt, I ignored the fire in my legs and got to my feet, fumbling forward.

Every part of me ached, my lungs and legs burned. My arms felt like they might just fall off. My mind was completely fuzzy, everything in front of me going in and out of focus. But I forced myself forward anyway. We needed to find water and we needed to find it now.

I wasn't losing anyone else.

Darkness was falling, shrouding my already spotty vision. I probably couldn't have seen my hand if I'd held it in front of my face. So it makes sense that I didn't see the tree root.

My shoe stuck right under it, scraping across my sneaker and throwing me to the dirt. Krel dropped beside me, sprawled and shivering in the dark. I twisted onto my back, gasping for breath, my stomach on the verge of retching. I never knew I could be this tired. I never knew I could be thirsty with my whole body.

I never knew opening my eyes could take so much effort.

At first, I couldn't see anything. But after a few blinks, I was able to make out the stars. I'd never seen so many in the sky at once, so bright and . . .

My mind went fuzzy again, my eyes threatening to roll back.

I forced them open again, taking in the stars.

Mama and Papa used to take us to see the stars. At least once out of every month. We got a telescope to share between us some Christmas ages ago. And every chance we got, we went out as a family, to see them. Sometimes going all the way into the mountains to get the best view. Papa showed us all the constellations, and Mama told us all the stories behind them.

That was even their nickname for us. "Stars of our lives," They used to call Krel and I. That's what Papa called me right before I made him forget who I was.

The pain of the memory was the last thing I could take. I felt something in me shatter. And I gave in to sleep.

I opened my eyes to a tickling sensation on my nose. It was late morning, the heat told me that. But it took a little longer for my eyes to tell me what was on my nose. A bug.

Huh.

I almost didn't smack it away I was so tired. But then, of course, it bit me. And I was a little more motivated.

I slammed my hand into my nose, waving off the mosquito but igniting the sunburn across my face. I groaned, holding both hands over my burning skin. I've been awake for all of ten seconds and this day already sucks.

Turning on my side, I glanced over at Krel. He was still laying there, completely still. I grunted, my head swimming as I sat up. Turning him onto his back, I checked his forehead again. His fever was just as bad, if not worse. Yesterday his skin was damp and sweaty, now it was scaly and dry. Like all the moisture had been sucked from his body.

The mosquito bites on his temple were new.

I groaned, waving more bugs away as they buzzed in my ears.

"Krel," I shook him a little. "Krel, can you hear me?"

No response. He was breathing, but only shallowly.

I looked back to road, a ways away, but still in view. We could go back there, try to flag someone down. Maybe if we gave them a good enough sob story they'd help us. Or maybe they'd just turn us in and get us killed anyway.

Another mosquito buzzed in my ear.

"Damn bugs," I hissed under my breath, smacking it away.

Wait.

Bugs . . . they only swarm like this . . . near water, right?

I looked up into the distance. Just more underbrush and trees. No sight of water. Not even the sound of it. But I pushed myself up anyway.

I leaned with one hand on the tree trunks, more or less pulling myself forward. My knees buckled and shook, but the ever growing buzzing drew me in closer. And then -

_Water._

I could hear it. The rushing, gurgling sound. So quiet. So soft. But so close.

I broke into a run, throwing myself passed the trees until the river came into view. It was small, not tall or bumpy with rapids, the water just softly floating by. If I had enough water left in me for tears, I would've cried. But I settled for a dry sob as I dropped onto the shore.

Pulling off my pack, I took out one of the empty water bottles, filled it, and dropped one of the water purifying tablets into it. Varvatos had said something about waiting for it to work, but I had no clue how long. I counted a minute and a half. It was as long as I could take.

I threw my head back, chugging down as much water as would fit in my mouth. I made it passed two gulps before my stomach flipped. I choked, pitching forward and almost dropping the bottle.

_Slow down_, I suddenly heard Papa, the first time he'd ever watched me speed around on my skateboard. _Slow down, Aja. Go little by little, not all at once._

I took a measured breath, following it with a few small sips. My stomach was much happier with that. I drank three bottles worth before sprinting back to Krel, full bottle in hand.

"Wake up!" I cried, dropping to my knees beside him. "Krel! Get up!"

He jolted at my volume, but it still took a moment for his eyes to open.

"Come on," I slid my arms under his, forcing him to sit up against a tree trunk. "Guess what I found?"

He muttered something, but it wasn't clear enough for me to hear. So I just filled the cap and raised it to his lips. He instantly reacted to the water, nearly bolting off the tree trunk and grabbing my hand.

"That . . ." He looked from me to the cap. "That wasn't . . . your spit . . . was it?"

"Nope," I replied. "It was river spit. Now drink up."

I gave him small cap-fuls, making sure to go as slowly as he needed me to. Not even five minutes went by before he started reaching for the full bottle.

"Just go slow," I said, raising the rim of the bottle to his mouth. "And if anything hurts, tell me right away, okay?"

"I know . . ." He mumbled. "I know how . . . osmosis works . . ."

"I'm glad you know how psychosis works," I replied. "Less talking, more drinking."

When he finished the bottle, I slid an arm around his waist and hefted the two of us to our feet, staggering back to the river shore. Before I even filled the bottle, I dragged Krel into the water by his underarms. Again, the second his feet touched the water he reacted, lifting his head to look at me.

". . . What are you . . .?"

I waded out just deep enough, relishing how cool the water was against my legs. Situating myself against a rock to fight the current, I lowered myself into a sitting position, the water seeping up to my waist while Krel sunk on his back.

I kept a hold in his shoulders, making sure his head didn't fall beneath the surface. Then I just let him soak there for a moment in the cool water, pawing up handfuls of it to pour over his flaming forehead. It was the closest thing we had to ice packs.

"This . . ." He mumbled. ". . . feels . . . nice . . ."

I chuckled. "Does it?"

I let him soak until I felt his fever go down a few notches, slowly feeding him as much water as I could. I downed several bottles worth as well, even pausing to wash my hair out. It was late afternoon when I staggered Krel back to shore, leading him back to the clearing we'd stopped at the night before.

"Feeling better?" I asked, leaning him back against the tree trunk.

He nodded, shifting against the bark. ". . . Tired . . ."

Shedding my jacket, I walked back to the water and waded in, letting it soak. I rung it out until it was damp and then walked back to Krel to lay it across the back of his neck. I lowered myself down at his side, him shifting to lean on my shoulder.

"I'm tired too," I finally answered.

He muttered something under his breath in reply. I leaned my head on his and let myself drift off to sleep.

I woke up several hours later, the sun just brimming along the horizon. My face was tingling from my sunburn, the new mosquito bite at the tip of my nose beginning to itch. I shifted my aching back forward, putting a hand over Krel's forehead. His fever was back. Just as high as it was before I'd found water.

A weight dropped in my stomach. We needed to keep moving, I knew that. But I also knew that there was no way Krel was about to get up and walk another ten miles. I could give him cap-fuls of water. I could let him soak in it. But that wasn't what he needed. He needed a hospital. He needed an IV putting water directly into his veins.

Again, two things I couldn't give him.

"Krel," I shook his shoulder. "Can you get up?"

His eyelids fluttered in response.

I sighed, reaching over to feel the damp jacket I'd put around his neck before we went to sleep. The heat had dried it out, and Krel's fever had heated it up. Plucking it off, I grabbed an empty bottle of water and began staggering towards the river.

Kneeling at the shore, I laid my crumpled jacket beside me and dipped the bottle to fill it. Just as I was about to drop a tablet into it, I noticed a red tinge to it. I held the bottle up, seeing the ribbons of red dance around the water, settling till they dyed it pink.

Funny. That looked like -

Then I saw the body.

A girl. Floating by on the current. Face down. Three bullets holes in her back. And surrounded with dark ribbons of her own blood.

I dropped the bottle, rocketing myself back against the shore. I almost expected her to move, flail maybe. But she was so completely still, just floating by. Carrying her pool of blood with her in the water.

Suddenly I wasn't so thirsty.

"I've got eyes on her."

A woman's voice made me jump. It was from the other side of the river, not far through the underbrush.

"You wanna come see for yourself?" More voices coming with her, muffled but many.

I scrambled to my feet a split second too late. The second I was standing, a PSF officer appeared through the trees. I watched her eyes go wide when they met mine. I watched her smile.

"There's another one!" She shouted into her radio. "Blonde, caucasian female! Right across the river!"

I shrieked, pivoting on my heel and sprinting back into the woods. My heart was pounding so hard it ached, fear pumping through me like blood. I bolted into the clearing, skidding to a stop beside Krel.

"Krel!" I hissed, grabbing his shoulder to shove him awake. "Krel, get up! Now!"

He groaned, his face pinching in pain as I jolted him. But his eyes didn't open.

"Krel, please!" I shook him harder, watching him fall limp against the grass.

Tears were in my eyes, searing across my sunburn as I cried. I couldn't move Krel, but I couldn't leave him either. If PSFs caught us, they would separate us for sure. We may never see Mama and Papa again.

My mind was scrambling, desperate for a way out. But I'd hit a dead end. There was no way out. We were trapped.

Then I saw my pack. The one that contained the nine millimeter.

I grabbed Krel under his arms and dragged him across the clearing, ignoring his grunts in protest. I slid him beneath the shrubbery, ready to pull the plants down over him. But then I stopped. Pulling him up by his shoulders, I crushed him into one last hug. Just in case I never got the chance to do it again.

"I love you," I told him. "Find Mama and Papa for me." Then I ripped the greenery down over him, till him and his pack were completely hidden.

I sprinted back for my own bag, pulling out the gun and then bolting towards the river. I rounded out about halfway there, turning towards the road and far, far away from Krel. I could hear them stomping after me, their heavy boots and heavier guns crunching against the grass. When I turned, I could see them.

There were four. Three women, one man. They were trodding forward, guns aimed. But they were heading across from the river, towards the clearing. They hadn't even seen me yet.

For once, I knew what to do.

Cocking the gun, I extended my arm to the sky and pulled the trigger.


	10. 10

**Well, There Goes My Life**

All four heads immediately whipped towards me.

"There!"

I turned back, bolting towards the road once again. Several shots rang in my ears, making me duck my head as I ran. Then a whizzing sound popped in my ear, and pain burst across my shoulder.

The force behind the bullet shoved me to my knees, hot blood spilling down my shoulder. My mouth opened to scream, but nothing came out. So I forced my backpack off my shoulders and tossed it aside the trail. Somewhere Krel would be able to find it. Then I kept running.

I tried holding a hand over the wound, blood seeping into my sleeve. The pain was only growing, white hot and throbbing on the very edge of my shoulder. _It's just a bullet scrape_, I heard Mama say, the day she'd taken me to the infirmary at the base. _They hurt, they bleed, but they don't kill you._

I could do this.

My feet had barely hit the pavement of the road when the sound started. It was quiet at first, just a weird buzzing that made me crane my neck back to see what it was. Then it exploded. And so did my cranium.

Underneath all the pain, I knew it was static. But the second it hit my ears, it was like taking a flaming knife to the brain. None of the migraines before were anything close to what this felt like. Like someone had a hold of my brain and was squeezing and scratching and stirring until there was nothing left in the world but pain.

I wilted like a daisy on the pavement, gripping my head and wishing I could bury it beneath the asphalt to escape the sound.

"Amazing isn't it?"

The sound cut off, leaving a horrible ache behind.

"They call it White Noise. Only you freaks can hear it. Ain't that just incredible?"

It was like swimming in tar to raise my head. Blood was dripping from my nose. My ears too.

"I hope you enjoyed the woods," The woman laughed. "'Cause you ain't ever seeing them again."

The ache in my heart was so strong it was almost nauseating. I would never see Krel again. I would never see Mama and Papa. Zadra. Varvatos -

No. Not Varvatos. I never wanted to see him again.

The woman rounded me, yanking me onto my knees as she cuffed my hands behind my back. "You got any friends in those woods?"

I opened my mouth to say no, but something stopped me. Of course I would say no. They were probably expecting it. So what weren't they expecting?

"You . . ." I panted. "You . . . killed her."

I felt the woman stop. "Oh that was _your_ friend there? What a shame." Her tone was light, sharp. Like this was all a joke and she knew she was the one telling it.

"Too bad you'll never see her again," The woman kicked the nine millimeter away from me, cuffing my ankles together. "But don't worry. You'll make plenty of friends at camp."

My mouth went dry. I could feel myself begin to tremble. But I forced my upper lip stiff. I wasn't going to cry in front of these monsters. I wasn't giving them that.

"Come on, hon," The woman gripped a fistful of my hair, dragging me forward. "We don't have all day."

I cried and writhed against the grinding pavement, my scalp screaming at me by the time we'd reached a truck parked by the side of the road. It wasn't a pickup, like ours had been. It was like a delivery truck, or a moving van. The inside of the back was lined with two benches, each seat having a restraint.

There were two kids already there when they shoved me inside. A girl, about my age, her head tilted back and her mouth open, unconscious. The other was a boy, no older than eight, quietly crying with his head down.

Uncuffing my hands, the officer forced me into the seat beside the boy, crossing the restraints over my chest and re-cuffing my hands over my head. Raising my arms like that set my shoulder on fire, but I bit my tongue to keep from screaming. These people had no remorse in them. No mercy. Any sign of weakness, they would exploit. I knew that.

A single officer, the man, stayed behind with us in the back of the truck. The three women slammed the doors of the truck, leaving us in uneasy darkness. I could hear them talking as they rounded to the front of the truck. Something about a tip about a tribe near here.

A tribe?

The word tugged at my memory, something Krel and I had read. Kids grouping together and setting up territories. The media made them out to be savages, but I wondered what they were really like.

Guess I'll never know now.

The truck rolled forward, bumping and jostling against the road. Like they were trying to make us as motion sick as possible. The boy beside me continued to cry, muttering a name over and over.

_Carla . . . Carla . . . Carla . . ._

The girl beside him didn't come to for a while, her tongue twitching as she closed her mouth again. She looked at the boy with some recognition, but her brow furrowed when she saw me. I just looked down.

The boys cries only seemed to get louder the longer we drove, his panic rising. The girl tried to nudge him, but gave up and just rolled her eyes, looking away. I blinked at her reaction, wondering how she could be just as uncaring as the PSFs.

Sliding my heel across the floor, I gently tapped the boy's shoe. He glanced at me out of the corner of his swollen eye. I gave him a gentle look, mouthing the words 'it will be okay'.

"Hey!"

The man jumped to his feet without warning, slamming the butt of his rifle into my bloody shoulder. I threw my head back, a howling scream ripping out of me. Pain exploded across my collarbone, up my neck and down my arm. My back arched, but the restraints kept me in place.

"Oh, did that hurt?" The man pouted his lips. "Does Baby need a bandaid?"

I gritted my teeth, swallowing another scream as I dropped my chin to my chest. But the end of the rifle dug underneath it, forcing me to look back up.

"Talk again," The man spat. "And I'll shoot you again. Clear?"

I just held his gaze.

He ripped his rifle away from me, letting my chin drop once again as I gasped for air. I tried to think of something else, to _be_ anywhere else but here. I thought back to my home on the base, wreaking havoc at school with Krel, and then looking at the stars with Mama and Papa. But that just made me ache for it all the more.

Suddenly, I was angry. I was more angry than I had ever been, like a bonfire of fury was set in my chest. I was mad at Psi for existing. I was mad at the world for hunting us like game. I was mad at myself for ruining my parent's minds. But most of all, I was mad at Varvatos.

No, I was furious with him.

He'd taken everything from me. And now, because of him, I was going to a camp. Because of him, Krel may die in those woods without me.

Fear began wrapping around my neck, strangling my breath. I'd never prayed about anything. I'd never even thought about it. But sitting there, knowing I'd left my hurt, sick little brother completely on his own in this cruel of a world, it was almost instinctive.

_Please God_, I begged. _If you even exist, let Krel live. Let him get to the river and let him find my pack. I don't care what happens to me, just let Krel find a way home._

And somehow, that made me even more furious.

Mama and Papa were going to get us out of this hell hole. They were planning to take us far away, to live our lives happily and safely together. And forget any of this ever happened. But Varvatos ripped that away from us. Instead, I was strapped in the back of a PSF van, shot, bleeding, on my way to a camp, and praying for my little brother's life.

That's when I realized the boy had stopped crying.

I glanced at him, he glanced back at me, and I felt myself go calm. I was exhausted, I realized. I felt achy and heavy and so, _so_ tired. I could think about all this later, now I needed to rest while I could.

I had a feeling I'd have plenty of time to think where I was headed.

We drove through the night, me nodding off a few times, but never fully falling asleep. The girl did though, easily sleeping most of the night. The boy stayed awake the whole time from what I could see. He just stared at the ground, completely silent.

When the truck stopped, the PSF in with us opened the door, the soft morning light coming through. "No talking," He barked, and then slammed the door behind him, leaving us alone.

"Who the hell are you?"

I looked up to see the girl, leaning forward to see me.

"I'm nobody," I said.

"I'm Connor," The boy said.

I gave him the closest thing I could to a smile. "Aja."

"I'd stick with 'nobody'," The girl replied. "The more these people know about you, the more they can hurt you."

I felt my throat tighten. I hadn't even thought of that. Krel said something about PSFs still searching for Mama and Papa. Does this mean they could use me against them? Could I even prevent that?

"Rise and shine!" The woman from last night threw the door open again, jarring us back into reality. They undid the restraints, but left our hands cuffed in front of us, guiding the three of us at gunpoint to the front of the building.

It definitely wasn't what I was expecting.

I was expecting an actual camp. But this was just a circle of buildings. The ones on the outside were tall and wide. From in on, they were just cabins, all arranged in rings. Dead center was a tall watchtower, overlooking everything. And surrounding it all were tall, barbed, electrified fences.

It was huge. Like a little city.

The PSFs walked us through the front gates, pointing us into the first building at our right. Just before we went through the doors, I caught a glimpse of a line of kids, walking back towards some kind of . . . farm land? They were all single file, wearing green scrubs and blank expressions. Another line walked beside them, but they wore yellow scrubs. And they were cuffed. Wrists, ankles, even their mouth were muzzled.

_Yellows_, my mind said. I had to rack my brain for the conversation we'd had all those months ago. Greens were the least dangerous, right? Just really smart or something. Blues were . . . I don't remember. Yellows were electrokinesis, like Krel. They weren't even considered the most dangerous, and they were shuffling around with cuffs and muzzles.

What would they do when they found out I was an Orange?

They walked us through the front of the bleached building, making me think of a hospital. It certainly smelled like one. At one point, they grabbed the boy's shoulder and yanked him off down another hallway, whisking him away without any warning.

Finally, they lead us down a hallway lined with rooms, tugging the girl off into one and me in another. It was an examination room, at least that's what it looked like. With the doctor already there, snapping on surgical gloves and messing with something on her touch screen. Beside her small desk was a chair. Large, reclined, and padded. Like the ones you'd see at the dentist.

"This is just a protocol examination," She said without looking up. "Just like a check up at the doctor's office. Ever had a check up at the doctor's office?"

I managed a nod, trying not to wince from how hard the PSF was squeezing my arm.

"Then this will all be familiar," She said. "Take off your shoes and socks." It wasn't exactly easy with my hands still cuffed, but I managed.

"Get her against the wall."

The PSF slammed me into the concrete so hard my head spun, his hand digging into my uninjured collarbone. The doctor put two fingers over the top of my head, looking at the measurements on the wall and recording my height.

"Scale."

I stepped onto it before the PSF could shove me again, watching the doctor's brow furrow when she looked at my weight.

"You picked her up near here, right? From the tribe?"

The PSF nodded.

"Weird," She said. "Usually those kids are crazy underweight, but hers is normal." She turned and went back to her touch screen. "Someone must've been taking good care of you, sweetie."

My eyes went down, a hot rock settling in my stomach.

"Get her in the chair."

The PSF wasted no time in dragging me away from the wall by my hair, all but slamming me onto the padding. The chair smelled like the dentist too.

"Lay down," He barked. I was too tired to argue.

Something cold and hard clamped down around my ankle. Craning my neck, I saw a chain, like a giant handcuff securing me to the bolted leg of the chair.

"Now, shoo," She said, waving the PSF off. He shot me one last glare before slamming the door behind him.

"Just so you're aware," She came back to stand in front of me. "He's not actually leaving, just standing outside the door. You try anything, all I have to do is shout and he'll give you a lot worse than just a scrape on the shoulder. Kapish?"

I could only look away.

She ran a wet wipe over my right hand, then pricked a needle into the flesh of my index finger. I winced at the sting, but didn't say anything. She pushed my bleeding finger against a petri dish and then walked back to her touch screen, placing the dish into a slot beside it.

"Huh," She said. "Not in the system. Oh well." She came back with a tongue depressor. "Open your mouth."

She checked my throat and mouth, looking in my ears despite the fact that they were still crusted with blood. She took my temperature, listened to my heart, felt my pulse, and even had me take several deep breaths for her to hear. Finally, she swiped a cotton ball under my tongue and then walked back to her touchscreen.

"You're dehydrated," She said. I almost thought she would offer me some water. But she didn't.

"And while that's loading," She muttered. "Let's get this scan going."

"Scan?"

"Yeah," She reached above me, pulling a giant circular machine to hover over my head. "I guess this is the one thing that isn't like a check up. It's basically a cat scan. It tells me where you belong in the color code."

The machine lit up, blinding me for a second before turning off again.

"Perfect," She said. "Now while we wait for _that_ to load . . ." She rubbed her hands together "Tell me your last name."

I swallowed, thinking back to the girl's warning. _The more they know about you, the more they can hurt you._ I remembered the PSFs back in Ohio, the ones who seemed to be looking specifically for us.

"Now." She snapped.

"Wang," I blurted. "It's . . . Wang."

Technically, it was Mary from Arcadia's last name. But I'm sure she wouldn't mind if I borrowed it for a while.

"Yeah," She took a moment to snicker to herself. "Nice try, Miss Aja Tarron."

My mouth went dry.

"Don't worry," She said. "You're not the first one to pull the whole fake name thing. It's why they updated the system." She patted her touchscreen proudly. "This baby searches the database based on blood samples instead of keywords. As long as you were born in the US, this thing will tell me everything about you."

I stared at her. "Then why did you ask?"

"It's fun to see what you guys come up with. And the looks on your faces when you think I've read your mind or something," She chuckled under her breath. "Priceless."

Was this -

Was this all a joke to her?

She hit a few buttons on her keyboard, looking through whatever information my blood had told her. "So you have a brother?" She lifted an eyebrow to me. "He's not in our system, only a birth certificate. You wouldn't happen to know where he is, would you? Don't worry," She winked. "I won't tell."

I didn't answer.

"The scan's taking forever," She said. "Let's clean up your shoulder."

I didn't want her to touch me. I didn't want her anywhere near me. But I didn't have much choice once she started tearing apart my t-shirt. She completely ripped off the left sleeve, exposing all the dried blood caked onto my skin.

"You're lucky the bullet didn't shatter your collarbone," She said. "That would not have been pretty."

Was any of this pretty?

I bit my lip, trying not to shout as she scrubbed my arm with wet wipes, mumbling about something under breath. When she reached the actual wound, I couldn't help but cry out, the prick of pain going all the way up my neck.

The doctor rolled her eyes. "Quit squirming, I'm almost done."

I gripped the edge of the seat, biting my tongue against the pain. Finally, she taped a large bandage over the rim of my shoulder and stepped back to her touchscreen. I laid a hand over the wound, the pain settling to a warm throb.

"Finally," She groaned, swiping on her screen. But then something in her posture changed.

I felt the color drain from my face.

"Okay," She said, her hand pushing a button on her desk. "It's gonna get a little different again, alright?" Suddenly she was holding a syringe, filled with a bright blue liquid. "Just a little pinch, okay?"

Then she was on me.

"No, wait!" I barely had time to catch her arms before they thrust the needle at me, my cuffed hands crossed over my face as I struggled to keep her away. "No! Please, I - I didn't do anything wrong!"

"Just a little pinch," She grunted. "It'll only make you sleep for a while, okay?"

I screamed, trying to writhe my way out from underneath her. "You don't need to do this!" I cried. "I'm not dangerous! I swear I'm not!"

"Oh, do ya?" She would've laughed if she weren't so out of breath trying to stab me. "Can I get some help in here?" She shouted.

"No!"

I felt the edge of the needle scrape against my neck and a layer of panic exploded in my chest. I felt my finger slip up her sleeve, moving past her gloves and onto bare skin.

And I was in.

I shoved the memories of crocheting and smoking away from me, clawing my way to the surface no matter how much it hurt. "Tell them I'm Green," I gasped, my head bursting with pain. "Tell them it was a mistake. Tell them I'm Green."

Her face went blank, her pupils exploding out as she relaxed.

And I let go.

Three PSFs burst through the door, but the doctor held up her hand to stop them. "The machine glitched," She said. Flatly. "She's a Green."

They almost looked like they would question her, but then she shot a glare over her shoulder. "Get out of my room," She snapped.

Their eyes lingered on me for a moment more, until they finally turned and strode out, their boots echoing down the hallway. Just like that.

A broken breath exited my lungs. One I didn't even know I was holding.

"Right through that door," She said, undoing the chain on my ankle and the cuffs on my wrists. "It works like a locker room. You get two minutes of water, alright? So you better be done by then. Put your clothes, including your shoes, down the shoot and go out the opposite door for your picture."

She clapped a bundle of green scrubs down into my arms, picking up a pair of white slip ons, and pausing to scribble a long number across one of them. Then she handed them to me and nodded towards the door at the back of the room. I rose on shaky knees, fresh tears coming down my face. I saw the syringe again as I passed her, and I swallowed.

"Oh, one more thing," The doctor made me turn as I opened the door. She smiled. "Welcome to Thurmond."

The showers were exactly what she said they were, a bunch of stalls with two minutes of absolutely _glacial_ water. I guess it wasn't so bad right then, it felt pretty good against my sunburns. But there was no way I was gonna get all the dirt off of me in two minutes. I was literally caked in it. So I just scrubbed the blood from my face and called that good.

Dumping my clothes down the shoot, I slipped into the scrubs and stepped barefoot out of the stall. I exited the opposite door and ended up outside, another PSF grabbing and pushing me into a line up against the wall of the building with several other girls.

There were about five of us in total, the girl I'd driven here with shoved beside me. Two girls on the end were wearing white scrubs, and they couldn't have been older than seven or eight. The one other girl looked older than all of us, maybe seventeen or eighteen. She was wearing blue scrubs. The girl beside me was wearing yellow scrubs.

"Just look into the lens," The young man said, maybe in his early twenties. He was holding a small camera in one hand and a cell phone in the other, checking something on the screen then snapping pictures of the girls. Like mug shots.

When he came to me, he stopped, raising an eyebrow. "Tarron? Like _the_ Tarrons?"

The entire mood in the yard shifted. PSFs all turned to the line up. Side conversations ended. The girl in blue scrubs was staring holes into me. I shifted where I stood, feeling the Yellow girl glare me down.

I glared back at her.

"Oh, you don't even know, do you?" The man laughed. "That's adorable. Look into the lens."

The flash made me see spots, but then he moved on to the next girl and I was able to blink them away. All his pictures taken, the cameraman exited back into the building, leaving us alone with the PSFs.

A woman stepped forward, removing her helmet to reveal a stout and sharp face, weathered with age and spite. She was short, barely taller than me, with dark skin and hair almost as red as her glasses. She stepped forward, walking up and down the line to get a good look at us.

"Kenney!" She shouted, another officer behind her coming to attention. "Get those two to undetermined."

In seconds the youngest girls were grabbed and gone, their soft cries fading as they entered the building once again. The woman continued her prowl, finally centering on me, her cold eyes digging into mine.

"You're a Tarron?" She asked.

I didn't say anything.

Suddenly her face was inches from mine. "Did I stutter?" She screamed in my ear. "Or are you just deaf? Cause I'm pretty sure I'm being loud and clear. Am I being loud and clear?"

I winced, grimacing away as my ears rung.

"Speak up, baby!" She shouted, a gloved hand closing around my collar. "You mute? Cause you're gonna be in the next few minutes if you don't start talking!"

"Yes!" I finally shouted, twisting away from her.

She grappled my shoulders, throwing me back against the wall. A jolt of pain went over my bullet scrape. "Yes, what?" She hissed.

I glared back at her. "I'm a Tarron."

Her face relaxed, settling into a crooked smile. "Aw, see? How easy was that? You've never been to a camp, huh?"

I hesitated, and then shook my head.

"Well let me tell you how things work around here," She stepped back, addressing the other two girls as well. "You just do exactly as you're told, yeah? And we won't have a problem. If we have a problem," She clapped her baton against her palm, snickering. "I promise it's gonna hurt you a lot more than it's gonna hurt us."

The Yellow girl was glaring fire at the ground. The Blue girl had silent tears dripping over her chin. And somehow, I felt so horribly out of place between them.

"But of course," The woman sauntered towards me again. "For fame such as yours, we may make a few exceptions."

Fame?

"Jamison!" Another officer came to attention. "Get that Yellow into a muzzle."

"No!" The girl shrieked, her head whipping up. "No, get away from me!"

She tried to run but the officer grabbed and twisted her arm back, striking her hard across the knee. I heard the horrible crackling sound. I watched the girl's leg crumple beneath her. She threw back her head to scream, but before she could even struggle, the baton was slammed against her temple. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head, and she collapsed.

The officer dragged her away by her hair, not even noticing the how crooked her leg was. I could feel myself sicken. That could've been Krel.

"Perfect example," The woman announced. "Of what happens when you don't do what you're told. So you two best learn to obey, you know, like good little children."

The officers behind her laughed.

I squinted in the sun, feeling it bake against my burn. Even from here I could see patches of land scattered throughout the cabins, like big gardens. All the kids bent over working in them, arms and faces just as red as mine, were Green. It made me wonder how long it would take for my burns to heal.

How long would I even be here?

"But you, sweetie," She leaned inches away from me, her breath in my face. "You better keep your head down. There's an awful lot of people here that would just love to pick a bone with a Tarron. Myself included. I'd learn to stay invisible," She sneered. "Cause you're already on my bad side."

She spat at me, the lukewarm liquid splotching across my cheek. I flinched, reeling in disgust. But I held her glare. I didn't care what the hell she thought of my family. I wasn't about to cower before her.

She snickered, looking at me like a pathetic little child. But right then, that was the last thing I was. That day, I aged ten years. I wasn't a confused twelve year-old girl anymore. I was a grown woman, ready to take anything Thurmond could throw at me.

And boy could it throw.

"Get the Green to her cabin," The woman hissed. "And outta my sight."

I scrubbed my hand against my cheek, just before my elbow was grabbed and twisted behind my back. I almost had to run to keep up with the PSFs, half carrying and half dragging me through the network of cabins. Their fingers were digging into the flesh of my arm, so hard and deep I was sure they would leave marks. I had to hold my breath at the grinding pain on my burns.

Finally, they stopped me in front of cabin tucked right in the corner of the compound, a big '27' painted on the door and the tin roof painted a bright green. Several rings in, the cabin roofs went from green to blue. Then yellow. Then orange. And finally, red. It made me wonder. If the most dangerous meant most destructive, why put them dead center in the camp?

I'd figured out the answer to that question by the end of the first day.

Forcing me over my own feet, the PSFs practically threw me through the door of the cabin. It was much darker inside, the single fluorescent light from the ceiling bathing everything in blue-green. The air turned stiff and sharp, bleach and cotton. Like the way a hospital smells.

I had to blink several times to adjust my eyes, shaking my head to see three girls huddled in the center of the room. At the sight of PSFs, they instantly scattered, each leaping onto the nearest of the two bunk beds.

The whole cabin couldn't have been bigger than a shed. None of them could've. It was so orderly, so scrubbed of any signs of life. Sterilized tiles. Wire bunks. A buzzing coming from the light above. It was too nightmarish to be real.

"Meet your new roommate," The officers spat, then threw me forward. Another one of them tried to spit at me, but he missed by about a foot and a half. So he just slammed the door shut again, sliding a bolt into place. "Remember," He barked through the walls. "No talking!"

"Aja?"

My head shot up. I blinked harder, forcing my eyes to adjust faster. One of the three girls was climbing off her bunk towards me. She had thick brown hair held back in two ponytails with flimsy, wire glasses. No, those glasses should be red. And plastic.

I squinted. "Shannon?"

"O. M. _G_." The girl on the opposite bunk crawled forward. "No way, no _way_ it's really her."

"Mary?" I blinked again, wondering if my mind was playing tricks on me. "Mary, Shannon, how - ?"

"It _is_ her!" Shannon dropped to her knees in front of me. "I can't believe you're here, Aja! Everyone told us you were dead!"

"I - I could say the same thing for you guys," I looked between them in shock. "Wait, what?"

"Well PSFs just kinda," Shannon shrugged. "Burned your house down one day. And then you guys, like, vanished out of thin air. I guess everyone just assumed you'd died in the fire."

I blinked at her. "Uh, yeah, no that didn't happen."

"Obviously," Mary said. "I mean, it's just so crazy to see you. Where have you _been_?"

"Traveling," I replied. "And I know what you mean."

"I know right!" She giggled, kneeling beside Shannon. "That's the one good thing about this place, I get to be with one of my besties." She squeezed her arms around Shannon's neck. "Well, two of my besties now."

She went to hug me too, but I instinctively flinched back. There wasn't a ridiculously oversized hoodie to protect me now. Mary flinched too, mimicking my motion with a mixture of shock and confusion in her eyes. Like she was hurt.

I flashed her the brightest smile I could muster. "It great to see you guys, too."

"Girl, are you okay?" Mary asked.

I tucked my hands under my arms. "Fine."

That's when I noticed the third head peeking up from behind them.

"Who's that?"

"Oh," Mary whipped around, gently pulling the girl forward. "This is Davaros. Davaros, meet Aja."

"She went to school with you, _too_?"

The girl could not have been any older than eight. Even then, she was tiny. Thin, boney limbs and shrunken posture. Really, all of them carried than posture. All of them were that boney. I wondered how long it would take until I looked like that.

"Yep!" Mary giggled. "Isn't that crazy? There's like a _gazillion_ to one chance, and I'm sittin' here with two of my besties."

She didn't try to hug me again. And that should not have hurt as much as it did.

"How did this even happen?" I asked. "Is there anyone else from Arcadia here?"

"Not that we know of," Shannon replied. "We were brought here separately, which is probably why they put us in the same cabin. They didn't even know we knew each other."

"How long have you been here?"

The giddiness in Mary's eyes slowly faded, a worn look showing through. Shannon's shoulders slumped, a heavy sigh coming from her lungs.

"We've been here since the first collection," She explained. "At least the first one in Arcadia. But the camps near Arcadia were getting too crowded, so we were transferred over with a bunch of other kids."

"But we got to stay together," Mary smiled, tapping Shannon with her elbow.

"That's," I had to pin my lips together, trying to remember when we'd left Arcadia. "That's at least a few months, right?"

"Since spring," Shannon shrugged.

"I've been here for two years."

I craned my neck to see where Davaros was hiding behind Mary, her little face tucked against Mary's shoulder.

"Two years?" I parroted. Something in me sticking. How long would I be here? It's not like the PSFs were ever gonna just let us out. Would they really keep us here . . . forever?

"Davaros was in undetermined until about a few weeks ago," Mary said. "She's been with us ever since."

I gave her a gentle smile. "You guys must have fun then."

She blinked at me, her eyes wide and dark. "Why did that PSF spit on you?"

I blinked, taken aback. "What?"

"Before he left," She whispered. "He spat on you."

Mary and Shannon shared a look of confusion, then Mary's eyes widened a little. "Oh," She whispered under her breath. They both looked at me with a weird mix of fear and sympathy.

I had to force myself not to shudder.

"They just don't like me," I said, shrugging it off.

"Why don't they like you?"

"Well for one," Mary flipped her hair over her shoulder. "She's nowhere near as pretty as me." She crossed two fingers from each hand over each other. "Hashtag-_slayed_."

I laughed, so hard I had to hold my hands over my mouth to keep it quiet. After months in a camp, Mary was still Mary. Sitting here in the dark, stuffy cabin, and hearing her instagram-talk was somehow hilarious. And having them laugh with me just made me laugh all the more.

Suddenly, the tears trailing down my face weren't from laughing. Suddenly the lightness in my chest crashed down like a weight, everything in me taking a sharp turn.

My stomach wasn't shaking with laughter anymore. Instead, my shoulders were shaking with sobs. I pinned both hands over my face, squeezing my eyes shut to try and stop the flow of tears. But I couldn't. I couldn't stop aching and trembling with fear. With loss.

I felt shy hands cautiously rubbing against my back. I looked up to see Mary and Shannon on either side of me, Davaros leaning against one of the bunks.

"I'm sorry," I croaked, biting my lip to stop the sobs. "I - I'm sorry - I don't know what happened -"

"Don't be," Mary said. "We all do our fair share of crying here."

"Talking too, apparently." I gave her a pointed look.

She winked. "What PSFs don't know won't hurt 'em."

"You might want to lay down for a bit," Shannon said. "We don't have much long until they come back for us. And, no offense, but you look really . . . roughed up."

"What are you talking about?" I asked. "About them coming back, I mean."

"Greens and Blues," Mary said. "We get stuck with all the busy work."

"Busy work?"

"Just stuff to keep us occupied," Shannon said. "Keep us tired."

I felt myself sink even more.

"This rotation it's working in the Garden," Mary said. "Like weeding and pulling up potatoes and stuff. Next rotation's cleaning the kitchens, and then it's making PSF uniforms -" Shannon nudged her, probably to tell her that I wasn't exactly listening anymore.

I was just staring out into space, feeling more and more hollow the more Mary spoke. Rotations. Repetition. Day in and day out. This was the life I'd always been running from, just to be caged in it once again.

How ironic.

"It's . . ." Mary pinned her lips together. "It's not _that_ bad, once you get . . . used to it."

Shannon sniffled.

Davaros slowly eased herself off of the bunk, crawling forward until she could sit cross legged in front of me. "You know what makes me feel better?" She asked, her short hair hanging over her face.

I shook my head.

"When we tell stories," She whispered. "About whatever we want. It always makes things a little easier."

I sniffled, wiping my face. "Really?"

"Here," Mary let her hand hover over my back again. "Go lay down, I'll tell today's story."

Shuffling myself forward on my knees, I climbed up onto the bottom bunk on the left wall. I let the heavy feeling of exhaustion take over, laying on my stomach and closing my eyes. The bed was padded, but it was barely softer than the wood. Still, it was the most comfortable I'd been in what felt like forever.

"When I was, oh let's see, I think three? Yeah, three years old. I'd just learned what soda was and was like totally obsessed with it, you know?"

Mary was sitting at the base of the bunks, Davaros laying on the bottom bunk on the right side, and Shannon climbing up to the top one.

"My dad used to work on cars in college, and he still kind of did as a hobby. So he was in the middle of fixing our car when I waddled outside."

I clutched the worn blanket under me, keeping my breath evenly measured. I felt so calm. And yet, so terrified.

"My dad had this big case of gasoline that he was using, and he hadn't noticed that I'd come outside. So it was just sitting out in the open," She paused to giggle. "And three year-old me decided that it looked like a soda bottle."

We all giggled a little, but Shannon and Davaros's were a slightly different. Like they'd already heard this story a dozen times over.

"I don't really remember what it tasted like," Mary continued. "But I remember not liking it. I just started throwing the can away from me and shouted 'icky soda!', and then my parents panicked and rushed me to the hospital for like a day and a half."

I chuckled under my breath, but a horrible weight was crushing me all the same. All I could think about were my parents. How desperately I wished I could have them back. I buried my face in the pillow to hide the tears. I listened to Mary's voice fade in and out. And then I let reality slip away.

The dream I had that day was probably the weirdest one I've had to date.

In the beginning, I relived being chased by PSFs. Firing into the air. Getting shot in the shoulder. And then crumpling on the road the second they played White Noise. Whatever that even was.

But after that, the dream kind of 'zoomed out' I guess. And suddenly I was watching myself get dragged away. My view stayed on the road, even as the PSF van drove out of sight with dream-me inside it. I watched the sun fully set over the road. I watched the stars shine over top of it. But slowly, it faded darker and darker, till there was nothing but pitch black. Then the screaming started.

It was Krel's voice. I recognized it immediately. It was raw, hoarse, and exhausted. But it was still my little brother.

He was screaming my name. Over and over again. Begging for me to come back. That I couldn't leave him on his own.

Then it was Mama who was screaming. Screaming for my Papa. Screaming that she wasn't going to find her children alone. That she would never leave him.

Papa started shouting too. He was calling for Krel and I. Pleading that we were alive and safe. Pleading for the strength to forgive his best friend.

Then it was Zadra, then back to Krel, then Papa, Mama, Varvatos, and Zadra again. Their cries and pleas overlapping and intertwining, grating and banging inside my skull till I was sure it would explode. I tried to scream back, but my voice was gone.

I felt my hands go over my ears, trying to block out the noise. I felt myself curl my knees to my chest. No sound came out, but I felt my lips plea for all of it to stop.

And it did.

Cut off to complete silence, like someone had pressed pause on a recording.

Suddenly, I was in my own bed. In my room, in my home, on Akiridion-5 Base. I was sprawled out towards the wall, pretending to be asleep while Mama and Papa prayed over me. But this time I was watching from the doorway.

Mama leaned over me, smoothing her hand over my hair. "Give her the strength to be the warrior we know she is." Then she leaned over to kiss my head. But instead of 'I love you', she whispered. "The sun is rising, Aja."

"Stars of our lives," Papa said.

I woke up to a small pressure on my shoulder. I flung myself back without thinking, smacking my already throbbing head against the wall. I grimaced at the bite of pain, reaching up to rub the sore spot. That's when I noticed how wet my face was.

"You okay, girl?" Mary lowered her head from the top bunk, hanging upside down to see me. "That sounded like a hard hit."

I continued to rub, using my spare hand to wipe my face. "I'm fine."

"Sorry if I scared you," Shannon said. "But the PSFs will be back soon, and it's better if you're awake for that."

I sniffled, running a hand under my raw nose. "How do you know when they're coming?"

"It's just something you learn," Mary said, climbing down from the bunk. "Your body clock gets used to it eventually."

"Great," I muttered.

"It's just until dark," Davaros looked up at Shannon. "Right?"

"Should be."

"What do you mean, until dark?" I cocked my head. "How long was I asleep?"

Mary shrugged. "Maybe twenty minutes."

"That's how it works," Shannon said, sitting at the edge of my bed. "Shifts last from morning to mid day, and then from mid day to night. And in weather like this, they give us, like, thirty minute breaks from the sun."

"They didn't do this in the spring," Mary said. "We got stuck working _all_ day long. You would not believe how many nails I broke."

"Do they ever feed us?"

"Yeah," Davaros answered quietly. "Morning and night."

"Showers are in the morning," Shannon added. "Don't stress too much about it. Just follow us and you'll be fine."

Several shouts echoed from the next cabin over, followed by the sound of shuffling feet. Shannon and Mary instantly clapped a single finger over their mouths. All four of us went perfectly silent, listening to the pounding boots of the PSFs.

They practically kicked down the door, barking at us to get moving. I followed the other girls to stand in a single file line towards the door, sandwiched between Mary and Davaros. Trailing after Shannon, we stepped back out into the heat of the day, heading towards the farmland thing I'd noticed earlier.

Keeping my eyes on Davaros, whilst Davaros kept her eyes on Shannon, I knelt with them in the mud and followed their motions of weeding and pulling up potatoes. Mary had summed it up pretty well, turns out.

It was clear that we weren't supposed to talk to each other. We weren't even supposed to touch each other. But looks were fair game. I watched Shannon and Mary throw glances back and forth at each other for hours. Widening their eyes, crossing them, scrunching their noses, raising their eyebrows at each other. Like they were having an entire conversation with their eyes.

All the other girls around me were doing the same thing. Obviously not as much, but occasionally, I'd catch a girl tossing a glare or wink. Mary threw several looks at Davaros, waggling her eyebrows, and then shot me a questioning look. As if to ask if I had anything to say.

I smiled with my eyes instead of my mouth, shaking my shoulders to pantomime laughter and giving my head a small shake.

We sat under the sun hour after hour, my burns cooking on my skin. My mouth was as dry as the air around us, the familiar feeling of thirst curling inside me. They had to give us water, didn't they? They couldn't expect us to -

The girl beside me collapsed.

I'd been listening to her labored breathing for the passed hour or so, but it was different once I saw her fold in on herself. Her skin was bright pink. Lips white and chapped. She looked just like Krel had.

I went to reach for her, but Mary's eye blew wide before I could, warning me not to. I squinted back, asking why. She just stared, Shannon eventually joining in. Before I could do anything else, PSFs stomped through the mud, snatching the girl off the ground and throwing her over their back like a sack of potatoes. The girl sitting across from her, whoever she was, began to quietly cry.

We never saw that girl again.

By the end of the day, I felt like I'd been worked to the bone. My back ached from being bent over for so long. My fingers were raw and throbbing. My head was pounding, screaming at me for water. My knees wobbled when I stood on them again, threatening to slip out from under me. But I forced them straight, stepping in line behind Davaros.

It was dark out by the time a whistle was blown and they led us to a kind of cafeteria. It almost reminded me of the school cafeteria. Standing in line, waiting to get trays of bland food. The only difference was they only served boiled potatoes and bread. Not that those two things tasted any different.

We were sitting at a table, eating in silence, when suddenly a scream burst through the room. I whipped around along with everyone else, seeing several kids in yellow scrubs running into the cafeteria, tripping over their cuffed ankles. PSFs grabbed them almost instantly, dragging them back outside as they screamed through their muzzles, kicking and begging.

But out they went. And the screaming just escalated.

"Get down!" A PSF yelled to us, cocking their guns and aiming at the backs of our necks. "Heads on the table! Now!"

I obeyed, holding two hands over my neck as I pressed my face against the cold table. I had to strain my eyes to look over at Mary and Shannon, but they kept their eyes on the ground. Next to me, Davaros began to sob over the noise. I couldn't even offer her comfort.

"Anybody who moves," The PSF continued. "Gets to be next."

I felt myself go stock still, barely even letting myself breathe as I listened to a thousand screams at once. I looked as far back as my eyes would allow, trying to see what the hell was going on. It wasn't until the orange glow came through the door ways that I realized what it was.

Fire.

Waves of it. Lapping around the edges of the opposite cafeteria building.

And they were throwing kids into it.

It started with the Yellows that had tried to run from the other cafeteria. Then they were grabbing kids from ours, forcing them out the door as they kicked and screamed. I felt a cold wash of fear fall over me, watching completely helplessly.

Three horrifying minutes later, the fires died down, coming to a very sudden stop. Kids were sobbing all over the cafeteria now, Davaros included. I could feel myself sickening, my stomach threatening to retch up a dinner I hadn't even eaten yet.

"Alright, heads up!" The PSF shouted. "And stop with the goddamn sniffling or I'll restart those fires myself."

The cafeteria fell completely silent.

I had to pry my head up it felt so heavy. Tears were pouring down my face, my eyes so wide it hurt. I craned my neck back, seeing the table closest to the door.

It was empty.

Oh God.

A small spilling sound made me look back to the table, watching Davaros dry heave into her tray. Bile and saliva poured from her mouth, her stomach heaving. I reached around to rest my hand against her back, offering her what little comfort I could. But of course, as soon as a PSF came towards us I had to rip my hand away.

I looked up at Mary and Shannon, tears still filling my eyes. They wouldn't even look back at me.

Barely five minutes later another whistle was blown and everyone shuffled to dump their trays and head back to their cabins, but hardly anyone had eaten anything. The walk back to the cabin was silent, the bolt sliding into place behind us in the dark.

We waited for the heavy, PSF footsteps to fade, and then Davaros broke down in sobs again. Mary and Shannon sat on either side of her, while I held my knees to my chest before them. We were all crying at that point, me holding a hand over my mouth to hide the noise. Davaros retched several times, almost like she would dry heave again. But nothing came from her empty stomach.

"What _happened_?" I finally croaked. "What was that?"

I watched something change in their eyes. Like they were going numb.

"It's what happens when the Reds try to escape," Mary whispered.

"Reds?"

"They make fire," Shannon said. "They don't do any work, we don't even know _what_ they do here. Sometimes they try to make it to the fence, but . . ."

I felt my stomach drop. "That's why they're in the middle," I said. "So they'll have to hurt other kids to get out."

They didn't answer. They didn't need to.

"This place is a nightmare," I whispered.

Davaros curled her face into Shannon's sleeve. "I want my mama."

My heart pulled with a throb. "I want my mama, too."

Mary's face crumpled. "We all do."

We sat there for much longer than we should have, holding each other and crying. I finally broke the stillness when Davaros and I made eye contact again. "I know where Mary and Shannon are from," I said. "But I never asked where you were from."

She pulled her tiny knees to her tiny chest. "I moved with my mama a lot."

"What did your mama do?" I asked, happy for the distraction.

"Math," Davaros shrugged. "Sciency things. But with the army guys."

"My parents worked with army guys, too."

"We used to live on bases," She said. "All over."

I laughed a little. "Me too. They never let me travel though."

"You used to live on a base?" Shannon looked up. "Like a military base?"

I nodded.

"That is _so_ cool."

"Eh," I shrugged. "Nothing too exciting ever happened on Arkeridion-5. I mean, there was that one time we -"

Davaros was staring at me.

". . . What?" I asked.

"I lived on Akiridion-5 Base."

I blinked. "You did?"

She nodded. "It was where I was . . . collected."

My posture deflated. "Oh."

"So you guys are really from the same place," Mary asked. "Like _really_?"

"What are the odds of _that_?" Shannon added.

I looked back at Davaros, watching her look up at me. "Remember when they used to give out donuts every Friday morning?"

Her face instantly lifted. "My mama always got me hot chocolate with it."

I laughed, even though it wasn't funny. "Did you have to go to the academy there?"

"The one with the itchy uniforms?"

"Yes!" I threw up my hands. "Nobody ever believed me when I told them that."

Davaros laughed too. "The teachers there were always so mean."

"I know right?" I said. "Once, me and Krel got a full week of detention for tapping morse code to each other during class."

"O.M.G!" Mary clapped a hand over her mouth in shock. "Is Krel here? Is he okay? I can't believe I forgot to ask!"

I felt myself deflate again.

"You . . ." Shannon said slowly. "It's okay if you don't want to talk about it."

"No," I said, rubbing a hand over my face. "No, it's not that."

"What is it?" Mary brushed a piece of my hair behind my shoulder. "You can talk to us about anything, girl."

"It's just . . ." My voice caught in my throat. "I - I don't know where he is."

"You two got seperated?"

"Only when they brought me here," I said. "I had to leave him to make sure he was safe."

Davaros sat up a little. "Who's Krel?"

Mary and Shannon looked at me.

"He's my little brother," I said, my eyes on the floor. "And I don't know where he is."

"Krel's smart," Shannon said. "Like, _really_ smart, right? Didn't he fix up the driver's ed car?"

"Yeah," I nodded. "That was him."

"If he's smart enough to get a dinosaur like that running again," Mary said. "He's smart enough to protect himself."

I shook my head. "You don't understand, he was sick when I left him."

"Sick?"

"Like the girl that collapsed today," I felt tears gather in my eyes. "He looked just like her. I tried to do what I could for him, but I knew none of it was gonna be enough. Then the PSFs saw me and I panicked. I hid him best I could and ran. I - I don't even know if he got away. I don't even know if he's . . ."

Davaros put her hand on my knee, scooting forward to sit in front of me. "I'm sorry." She said. "I don't have any brothers, but sometimes - sometimes I get really scared for my mama. And it hurts," She pointed to her chest. "Right here."

"Yes," I choked. "It does."

"I'm sure he's fine, Aj," Mary said.

I bowed my head. "You don't know him like I do."

"No," Shannon said after a minute. "I guess we don't."

I got on my bunk after that, too tired to talk but too scared to sleep. So I just lay there, staring at the wall and praying with every bit of strength left in me that Krel was alive. That he was out there somewhere. Safe.

It was over four years later before I finally got my answer.


	11. 11

**T is for Thurmond**

My time at Thurmond seemed to exist in its own dimension. It was like one, eternally long day. One that never seemed to end. All of the real days just blended and mushed together, repeating and tangling in my mind no matter how hard I tried to keep them straight.

It was impossible to count them. So instead, I counted seasons. I scratched a 'W' into the paint on my bunk for every winter. An 'S' for every spring. An 'Su' for every summer. And an 'A' for every autumn. In the end, I spent four springs, four summers, five autumns, and five winters at Thurmond.

So little happened in those years, and yet, so much at the same time. It was repetition, a routine designed to break you. And break you it did. Everyday I forced myself out of bed to just get back in it the next night more broken than before. Slowly, so painstakingly slowly, I learned to grow a thicker skin for it all. I learned to stomach it, just enough to survive till the next day. Like all the other girls in my cabin.

Those girls became more than just my roommates. By the end of the first winter, they were my family. We'd stay up as long as our bodies would allow, telling stories about our lives and homes before Psi. Sometimes we'd play games or I'd teach them old songs Krel and I used to sing together. And sometimes we would just sit with each other, too tired to do anything else.

Once, I swiped a pair of sheers from the Garden shed to give everyone a haircut. Just for the fun of it. Mary and Shannon worked meticulously on each other's, while I let Davaros chop away at mine. By the time Mary had helped her even it out, I had something close to a pixie cut. But I loved it anyway.

We clung to those little moments. Those little stories. Thinking back, that's what kept us alive. That's what kept us from losing ourselves behind those barbed wire fences.

But those weren't the only moments that happened.

Oddly enough, those moments, the violent ones, they were good for keeping time too.

The first time I was beaten by a PSF was my third day there. I was bent over in the Garden, my skin blistering with sunburns. Mary had sent me a cross-eyed look to be funny, and I'd chuckled under my breath without thinking.

The nearest PSF was next to me in an instant, grabbing me by my hair and yanking me back. He slammed his baton down on my ribs, another officer holding down my legs so I couldn't curl up to protect myself.

"You wanna laugh?" He's shouted at me. "How 'bout this? This funny? Why aren't you laughing anymore?"

The pain was almost unbearable. The waves and cracks of it, coming down again and again, the horrible feeling of helplessness strangling me.

It was three horrible minutes until he finally stopped, blood smeared across my face. It hurt to breathe. It hurt to be alive. He muttered something about my last name under his breath then spat in my hair. And he left me there. Gasping and bleeding in the dirt.

I could feel the other girl's eyes on me, but I knew none of them could help me. I had to do it myself.

So I did.

I shoved down the flaming pain and I sat up. I pushed myself back onto my knees, and I kept working. That night, I waited until Davaros was asleep to ask Mary and Shannon the question buzzing at the back of my mind.

"They called me famous," I said. "They called my whole family famous. Why?"

Shannon sighed. "It's not like we _know_ . . . but we've heard PSFs say things . . ."

"Like what?"

"Like," Mary winced. "They blame the Tarrons for the draft, I think."

"You think?" I asked. "That's a pretty serious accusation."

"The PSFs say you're traitors," Shannon said. "But it's okay, we don't blame you -"

"No," I shook my head. "My parents aren't traitors. They were the ones that were betrayed."

They looked at me for a moment.

"It's just what PSFs say," Mary said.

I refused to believe it. It just didn't make any sense. My parents weren't traitors. They couldn't be. Not after everything they'd given up for this godforsaken country. But that didn't change the way the officers saw me.

Every little thing I did, I could feel PSF eyes on me. They were waiting for me to mess up. Just looking for excuses to make me bleed. My hands would tremble any time an officer came near, even if they weren't looking at me. But there was no escaping the inevitable. I'd cough at the wrong time. I'd trip. I'd look at a PSF the wrong way. And they'd make me pay for it.

It was late autumn the first time I broke down. I couldn't take it anymore. I couldn't handle this fear, this _pain_. I prayed that God would let me die that night. But of course, I didn't.

Shannon ran a gentle hand up and down my spine while I sobbed on my bunk, shushing my cries.

"I can't do it," I hiccuped, the tears making my split lips sting. "Not again. Not again, _please_ not again."

"Yes, you can," Shannon whispered.

"No, I can't!" I threw my head back. "You have no idea what this is like! No one ever touches you!"

"Aja, listen to me," She said. "You're strong. You're so much stronger than you think."

"No, I'm not," I buried myself in my pillow, sobs racking my body. "I'm not. I'm not."

"Aja -" She reached for my face, but I threw myself back.

"No!" I screamed. "Don't touch me!" I collapsed against the wall, pulling my knees to my chest as I cried. "Please, _please_ don't touch me. I don't want to be touched anymore."

She scooted across the mattress to sit beside me, letting me cry for a while. Mary and Davaros joined her eventually, just making sure I wasn't alone.

"My mama used to say you can do anything for just a day," Davaros finally said. "You can do it just one more day, can't you?"

I stared at her, slowly processing the words.

"Just one more day," Davaros said again. "And at the end of it, you'll be here with us. You can make it till then."

I didn't reply. Instead, I felt myself go limp, so, _so_ horribly tired.

"Aja?" I looked over at Mary. "Davaros is right. Whatever happens out there, no one can hurt you in here. So make it through the day and come back to us. As long as you're with us, you're safe. Understand?"

I met her eyes for as long as I could, before my head finally fell forward and I more plummeted than fell asleep.

The weeks and months following that first break down were long and cold. Literally. That first winter was definitely the hardest. Not a day went by when I didn't sport a few bruises. I ended up in the infirmary several times, usually for broken bones. Twice for a dislocated shoulder. And once for the yellowish-brown splotches on the backs of my arms, shoulders, and sides of my legs.

"They're scars," The nurse had said. "At least they're _like_ scars. When repeated bruising happens over an area, too much iron is deposited into the skin. That causes permanent staining."

"What does that mean?" I asked.

"The splotches are the scars that bruises leave behind," He snapped. "And they're never going away."

But through it all, I never forgot their words to me. Everyday, I told myself I could do it for twelve more hours. Just twelve. Then I would be safe in my cabin. With my family. Just one day at a time.

By the time spring had come, PSFs stopped looking for excuses to hurt me. They just would. I could tell by the sound of their boots, how they pounded heavy and slowly towards me, knowing they could take their time. Knowing I had nowhere to run.

The helpless feeling began haunting my nightmares again, to the point that it was hard to tell the difference between dream and reality. But, ever so slowly, I learned to grow a thicker skin. I learned to numb myself inside. Every time I heard a PSF coming, I learned to will myself unbreakable, even if it was just for the few minutes the beating would last.

Afterwards, when I was safe in my cabin, I could be broken. I could be shattered into a million pieces and sob as long as I wanted while Shannon rubbed my back. But for those few minutes, I could be strong.

The next incident was at the end of the first spring. We were in the big warehouses, in long assembly lines as we laced PSF boots. The Blues behind us had the sewing machine whirring, stitching together the actual uniforms. Davaros was beside me, her little hands pulling at the cords as she tried to lace the boots.

Her basket of finished boots was pathetically small, her fingers just about blistered at how hard she was pulling. I'd seen what they'd done to the girl yesterday after not meeting the "quota". She was still in the infirmary for it.

So just as the PSFs were coming down the line, examining the finished products we'd created, I switched our baskets. Davaros's was right next to mine, it was almost too easy to do it.

She looked up at with wide horrified eyes, shaking her head over and over. For a split second, all I saw was Krel, the night trolls caught us and the look he'd given me in the back of that truck. Begging me not to do what I did.

But I'd done it anyway.

I knew how hard those batons were. Davaros was barely even four feet tall. If they hit her she'd snap in half. It was only another beating, I could take it. Just like I always did.

The officer had his fun screaming at me for my pathetic basket, making my ears ring by the time he'd finished.

"Interesting, isn't it?" He laughed in my ear. "One of the mighty Tarrons, and she can't even lace a damn boot."

I just stared at the ground, waiting for the pain. Bracing for it.

"Oh, but don't worry," He leaned in close, whispering against my neck. "We've got something special for you, Miss Tarron."

Then he grabbed me by my hair and pulled me away. I heard Davaros's whimpering cries as they dragged me out into the night air. I almost heard Mary's too. But I was gone before I could know for sure.

They dragged me down to a shed across the camp, several other PSFs joining in by the time we got there. It wasn't small, like the size of a storage unit. When they pushed me inside, the overwhelming scent of dog food hit me first. Then the sight of the empty kennels.

They never told me, but I always assumed there were supposed to be guard dogs stationed at Thurmond. But the funding got cut off or whatever, and they just left the supplies for it to rot in that shed.

Until then.

He pulled open the door to one of the kennels, pointing his baton towards it. "Get in."

All the color drained from my face, my heels backing up against the hands holding me. "No," I shook my head. "No - no, that's -"

"Get in!" He shouted, smacking his baton against the metal bars to make me flinch. "It's where you Tarrons belong."

Anger rose in my chest, giving me the strength to struggle. "No!" I screamed. "Get away from me! I'm not going in there!"

The officer grabbed at my hair again, throwing me back against the wall. "You wanna act like a bitch? You get to sleep like a bitch."

They picked me up after that, trying to shove me into the dog kennel. I screamed and thrashed, my feet holding against the rim of the box. I wasn't going in that cage. I wasn't an animal. And I wouldn't stop screaming it.

Finally, they dropped me back to the ground, through with the struggling. I saw a flash of the baton being raised and I closed my eyes, willing myself to go numb. They beat me till I stopped fighting. Till my blood splattered on the wall behind me. And when they were finally done, they stuffed me into the cage, slamming the door with a cackle.

"Have fun sleeping in there now, mutt!" He laughed. Then he was gone. And I was alone.

Those hours were the longest in my life. I prayed for death, half convinced I was already dead and this was what hell was like. I could barely breathe as I sat there, cramped and pinched and bleeding. I made me think of when Krel and I had to cram ourselves in the back of Varvatos's car.

It made me miss those days more than anything.

So I closed my eyes and I pretended I was there again. I imagined the way the carpets felt. How terrible it smelled. How sweaty Krel and I had gotten in the heat of California. I drowned myself in memories, living the last hours in my mind.

When I opened my eyes again, I was in the infirmary, an oxygen tube across my nose.

"Do you know where you are?" A soft voice asked.

I squinted, finding the face of an old man hovering above me. I almost thought he was Varvatos. The disappointment was crushing when I realized it wasn't.

"You're in the infirmary," The man said. "You're gonna be good as new soon, I only need you to relax. Just focus on your breathing."

The gentleness in his voice was almost alien to me. I couldn't remember the last time an adult had spoken to me like that. I couldn't remember that last time I'd been handled with care.

I stayed in the infirmary for three days, in and out of consciousness for the most of it. I had dozens of fractures, bruises, and breaks. I got three stitches across my elbow. And I had an oxygen tube under my nose the whole time.

The old doctor, whoever he was, gave me the treatment of a lifetime. He never spoke above a whisper. Never set a bone, never gave an IV, without telling me first. And he always gave me small reminders to rest and breathe.

I could tell he'd been around long enough to know the reputation my name had been given. He knew I was the one all the PSFs loved to pick on. There was a pecking order to this place and I was at the bottom. I guess that's why he tried to keep me for as long as possible.

The day I left the infirmary, I was awake for most of it. I sat cross legged on the bed while the doctor told me the story of how he'd met his wife. Every once in a while he would check my vitals, adjust my IV a little. But nothing more than that.

At lunch, he brought back a turkey sandwich for me. "Someone made an extra one," He shrugged. "You might as well eat it."

I just about cried when I bit into it. I couldn't remember the last time I'd eaten anything besides boiled potatoes and bread. I couldn't remember the last time I'd eaten anything that tasted so _good_.

"Lively," I muttered under my breath.

The old doctor chuckled, watching me savor every bite. He continued his story about his wife, and I continued listening. Not twenty minutes later, he came to check my vitals, pressing the stethoscope against my chest.

"I'm well enough to go back to my cabin," I said. "Aren't I?"

He paused, like I'd caught him with his hand in the cookie jar.

"Is there something else wrong with me?"

He sighed, drawing back his stethoscope. "No. There's not."

"Then," I asked. "Why am I still here?"

He didn't answer for a while, just tapping his stethoscope against two of his fingers. "I became a pediatrics doctor to heal children," He finally said. "Not hurt them."

We sat in silence for the next few minutes, him finishing my vitals and even adjusting my IV. He was the one to break the silence again.

"You know," He said. "I had a granddaughter, not too many years ago."

"Had?"

A sad smile covered his face. "She did not survive the disease."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be," He turned to do something on the touchscreen. "I . . . I think it's better she is dead."

I thought back to all the times I'd prayed for death. "Maybe you're right."

He turned back around, shining a light in each of my eyes. "You remind me of her."

"Funny," I replied. "You remind me of someone too."

"Really? Who?"

A dull ache went through my chest. "An old geezer I used to know. He wasn't my grandpa, but he might as well have been."

"Used to?"

"He took care of me . . . until he didn't," The back of my throat began to ache. "He lied to me. He betrayed me."

It was quiet for a moment.

"Do you blame him?" The doctor asked. "For ending up here?"

"Sometimes," I whispered. "Sometimes I'm not so sure."

"What makes you doubt?"

"I miss him," I croaked. "I miss him like he's my grandpa."

He put a gloved hand on my shoulder. "I understand," He said. "I do."

I believed him.

"I can only keep you for a few more hours," He said. "Tonight, you'll have to go back to your cabin."

My entire body froze at those words, my joints locking up with numbness and terror. I swallowed, clenching my hands to keep them from shaking. "Okay," I said, forcing the word to be true. "That's okay."

That night I walked back into my cabin, a brace around my right arm and left leg. Medical tape holding a cut on my forehead together. My right ankle wrapped. And completely black and blue. When the girls saw me, they looked at me like I was a ghost.

"Hey guys," I said, giving them a small wave. "How've you been?"

"We . . ." Shannon had to clear her throat. "We didn't know if you were coming back."

I blinked, the shock setting in like a slap in the face. Then I saw Davaros, and the slap became a punch. She was looking at me with sheer agony across her face. Pure guilt. A sob burst from her throat before she bolted towards me, throwing her arms around my waist before I could stop her.

I jolted at the sudden contact, but then I relaxed. Using my braces to keep from touching her skin, I lowered to my knees and hugged her back.

"Why did you do that?" She sobbed. "They hate you! They'll always hurt you worse than me! Why didn't you just let me get in trouble?"

I squeezed her harder, petting her hair as I shushed her cries. The way Shannon had done for me so many times.

"What did they do to you?" She hiccuped against my stomach.

I bit my lip to keep it from trembling. "It doesn't matter."

"Yes, it does!"

"No, Davaros," I pulled her back by her shoulders. "It doesn't. But you know what does matter? We're cabin mates. And you know what that means?"

She shook her head.

"It means you and I - and Mary and Shannon - we're all sisters now. And we've got to take care of each other. You know what that means?"

She sniffled.

"It means I'm gonna take care of you, whenever I can. Trust me," I winked. "It's what big sisters do."

"But they'll hurt you," Her face crumpled, tears falling. "They'll always hurt you worse. They would've just hit me a few times, it wouldn't have been so bad."

I pulled her back into a hug, thinking back to the Blue girl they'd beaten the day before. "Yes, it would've." I whispered.

Mary and Shannon came forward to flank me, their hands on each of my shoulders. "We're just happy your home," They said.

They leaned their heads on mine, letting us have the first real group hug. I let out a broken sigh I didn't know I'd been holding, my eyes wandering along the empty walls of the cabin.

No, this place wasn't home. But for now, these girls were.


	12. 12

**T is also for Trauma**

It was several seasons later that Mary was attacked.

We were well into our second winter, working in the kitchens as we scrubbed pots and pans with scalding water. We'd all been noticing a certain PSF that had spent the last few days watching Mary from afar. She'd laugh it off when we brought it up, talking about how she was just 'too much to resist' and something about a hashtag. But I could tell it scared her.

It scared me too.

That afternoon was just like the thousands that came before it, at least, until the PSF came to stand right behind Mary. He put his nose in her hair as she scrubbed, sighing in her ear. I watched her face tense, her lips pinning together and eyes squeezing shut. She didn't know what to do. None of us did.

Suddenly Mary's eyes popped wide open again. I didn't know why until I saw his hand moving beneath her shirt. Memories began flashing in my mind, when someone had done that exact thing to me. How it had felt . . .

I had to do something.

And I had to do it _now_.

Shannon and I locked eyes, the message going between us somehow. Gripping the pan I was holding, I wound my arm back and smacked it into her shoulder. I made sure it didn't hit her too hard, just enough so send her crashing to the ground.

"Shut the hell up!" I screamed at her. "I hate you! Shut up! Shut up!"

"Me?" She shrieked, ignoring the PSFs shouting behind her. "You shut up! You're always causing trouble around here!"

"Argh!" And I dove at her.

It didn't take five seconds for rough hands closed around my arms and wrench us apart. I shot a glance at Mary, seeing her look of complete and utter shock. The PSF that had been behind her was now behind me, pinning my wrists between my shoulder blades.

I looked back at Shannon, the little victory reflecting between us.

"You two know the rules," The woman holding Shannon announced. "Ten strikes. Both of you."

The officers threw us both to the ground, pinning us down on our stomachs. The respective officers drew their batons, winding their arms back. I held my breath as I braced for it. The batons cracked against the center of our backs, right over the spine. Pain flared all the way up to my neck, but I gritted my teeth and grimaced through all ten strikes. My spine was sending shoots of pain all throughout my body by the time they'd finished, but it was over.

Pulling us back to our feet, they shoved Shannon back towards her station. I waited for the release on my arms, but it didn't happen. I watched Shannon's eyes slowly trail back to me, an anxious fear going between us. Tugging on my shoulders, I tried to pull away, but their fingers dug into me even deeper.

The woman slowly sauntered in front of me, her gaze turning to a glare. "Of course, we have a special place to keep the mutts, don't we?"

Anger swelled in my chest, but I bit it back before tears could start. I wasn't giving her that satisfaction.

"I told you to stay invisible, _Tarron_." She said my last name they way everyone said it. Like it was a slur. "But I guess it's more fun like this."

I didn't care how terrified I was, I met her glare with every ounce of energy left in me. If I was gonna die in this camp, I was gonna die fighting.

Suddenly, the back of her hand clapped against my cheek, so hard my body seemed to rattle against the force. My entire head was thrown to the side, an extra burst of pain going through my strained neck. My cheekbone sent a white hot throb across my face. I could already feel it starting to bruise.

"Keep your eyes where they belong," She hissed. "The ground."

Then it was back to the dog cages, for the rest of the day and well into the night. Turns out I was right, I did have plenty of time to think while at Thurmond.

After that second winter, things started changing for me at Thurmond. The beatings were coming less and less often, long hours in a dog cage filling up the space. And of course, the spitting. Nearly every time I walked down a hallway a few PSFs would try to take their shot at me. Once, three officers spat in my potatoes and then made me take a bite. After they left, Mary switched our bowls and gave me wink.

"Claire's little brother used to drool on everything," She told me that night. "I'm basically immune now."

It wasn't until the very end of the second spring that Davaros worked up the courage to ask me where the PSFs were taking me all the time. The way she'd looked up at me when she said the words, how she'd looked so scared of the answer. I just didn't have it in me to tell her the truth.

"They just make me sit in that old shack on the other side of camp," I said. "It gets cold. It gets sweaty. But I think it's more about solitude. It's really not so bad."

Davaros let out a sigh, her little body relaxing on her bunk. "Well, that's good, isn't it? Instead of . . . you know . . ." She toyed with her blanket. "Being hit all the time."

I didn't say anything for a while.

"Maybe."

Sometimes it was. Sometimes it wasn't.

In those cages, the only thing I could do was think. So I thought about my family. I thought of Mama and Papa and Krel and pleaded with every deity I'd ever heard of that they were out there somewhere, alive and safe. That they were looking for me.

Somehow.

I thought of Zadra and hoped that she was alright, wherever she was. I thought about the doctor that had treated me like human being for the first time since my arrival. I thought about Arcadia and how bright of a town it was. I thought about my home on Akiridion-5 Base. I thought of my bedroom and my old skateboard.

And then, I thought of Varvatos.

It was impossible to avoid the topic, especially locked inside my own mind like that. Sometimes it would make me furious, so much so I thought the cage might burst with all the pressure in my chest. This was all his fault. He'd taken everything from us. It was his fault I was wearing this uniform. That I was cramped inside a damn dog cage for existing.

Other times, it wasn't so simple.

I'd think about how he'd taken care of us. How he'd thought of everything we could ever need. The knock-code he taught us. How he started calling us his 'princess' and 'prince'. How much it ached that he was gone, no matter how angry I got.

I'd think back to that stupid strip of skin that had told me his secret. Sometimes I wished my pant leg had never pulled up. That I'd never learned he'd betrayed me. At least I wouldn't be in this hell on earth camp. At least I'd be with Krel.

No, I'd tell myself. The truth would've had to come out somehow. Krel and I deserved to know what he had done to us.

Then I'd blame the jackass that rear ended us three days after we'd left Varvatos. If it weren't for that son of a bitch, we never would've been in those damn woods. Krel wouldn't have gotten sick. I wouldn't have ended up here.

I'd drive myself crazy going back and forth. Switching the blame from person to person, torturing myself with do-overs and memories. It was almost worse than the beatings. The silence around me as the static inside my head shrieked, thoughts whirring back and forth till I was nothing but crackling and numb as I sobbed. It was terrifying. Feeling reality slowly falling away, no matter how hard you tried to white-knuckle it.

Sometimes I wished they would just beat me and get it over with. Then I could go back to my rotation of mindless work instead of sitting here, trapped and tortured inside my head. Maybe that's what the dog cages were really about. Like something Papa had once told me. _There is nothing anyone can do to you, that's worse than what you can do to yourself_.

I finally understood that now.

But that didn't change anything. No matter what happened in a day, no matter how horrible or painful or nightmarish it was, the sun always set that night and it always rose that morning.

Life goes on. So I learned to go on with it.

Trouble didn't start up again until the fourth winter. The winter Davaros received her first punishment.

We all tried to protect each other, whenever we could. Davaros especially. She was the baby of the group, and no matter how many times it annoyed her, I knew she loved the feeling of having older sisters. And I loved the feeling of being an older sister.

But none of us could've protected her from this.

I had finished spending the night in the dog cages, shuffling back to my cabin in the cold wind that morning. When I got there, stepping in line with Shannon and Mary, I noticed that Davaros wasn't there. I noticed that Shannon and Mary were both crying, eyes red and swollen. But I couldn't even ask them why.

We walked single file towards to our station, trudging through the snow. That's when I saw her. Her tiny, tiny body curled and trembling against the barbed fence, her wrist chained to the links. I almost screamed with horror, my feet refusing to walk. Mary had to shove me forward before a PSF could.

I craned my neck back anyway. I could see the ice in her hair. The tips of her fingers going blue. I could see the tears that had frozen to her face.

They left her out there all night and half the day. I'd seen it happen to other kids, whenever PSFs were feeling crueler than usual. But Davaros was the youngest victim by far. I spent all those hours with trembling hands, praying with every part of me that she would be alright. That by some miracle, she would not freeze to death.

We saw her the next night, after she'd gotten out of the infirmary. She had pneumonia, I knew that just by looking at her. Just by hearing her cough. But the frostbite on her fingers had been successfully treated, thin wrinkles of scars left behind.

We all slept in one bunk that night, holding our baby sister as she shivered and coughed. "I'm sorry," I muttered, over and over. "I'm so, so sorry."

"I d-didn't . . ." Davaros choked out. "I didn't d-do anyth-thing wrong."

Shannon petted her hair, squeezing her hand. "No, you didn't. But you're here now. You're safe now."

And for those few precious hours, she was.

She had pneumonia for about two weeks after that, carrying a cough until spring. We all lent her our blankets, snuggling close to each other for body heat at night. One night, all of us crammed on one bunk, Davaros tugged on my shirt.

"Tell me a story," She said.

"Isn't it Shannon's turn?"

"I wanna hear _your_ story."

I chuckled under my breath. 'My' story was the story of how Krel and I once turned our computer tech class in a rave. It was one of the first stories I'd told them, and they'd laughed over it for hours. It was Davaros's favorite.

"You never get tired of that story, do you?" I asked, shifting to make sure there was still a blanket between me and anyone else's skin.

"Nope," She coughed.

I reached over to rub her back, feeling how her entire rib cage shook when she breathed. "Can you remind me how it starts?"

"You and Kevin were in class and the teacher didn't show up."

"Yes," I snickered. "Me and _Krel_."

"Oh, yeah."

"Yeah," I continued rubbing her back. "So the teacher never showed up to class, so everyone was just doing whatever they wanted on the computers, and Krel had just downloaded this weird app on his phone. Essentially, if he hooked his phone up to a computer, he could make these songs out of like, different sample sounds I guess. It was like a portable DJ station."

Shannon rested her head against my shoulder.

"So of course, he connects his phone to the computer and starts playing this music. But the computer kept locking him out because of all the filters on student's computers. So he goes over to the teacher's computer, somehow gets through the firewall specifically designed to keep students out, and starts playing music on it."

Mary laughed a little under her breath. "Hashtag-stick-it-to-the-man."

"Then I started dancing, and then everybody started dancing, and then Krel found a way to hack the student's screens and make them flash different colors. It was _lively_," I let my eyes roll back, reliving the memory best I could. "All the lights and music, everybody just laughing and dancing. It was the most fun we ever had at the academy. I even climbed up on top of the teacher's desk and did a backflip off it."

Davaros snickered into her pillow, knowing exactly what I was about to say next.

"Of course, I was in a plaid skirt at the time so I just ended up flashing the entire class and the vice principle as he came to see what we were doing."

All four of us laughed, my face heating up a little. It wasn't so terribly embarrassing. I was only eleven at the time. I barely knew what flashing _was_.

Wow. Eleven year-old me had no idea what was coming for her.

"And then you got expelled, right?" Shannon asked, even though she knew full well how the story ended.

"They tried to expel us," I said. "But our parents practically owned the school, so the worst they could give us was a two-week suspension. Totally worth it - especially once we saw the administrators face when she found out an ten year-old had hacked her firewall. Let me tell you, price-_less_."

Davaros recovered fully by spring, and things seemed to fall back into the usual. There was one incident, in the third summer, where Shannon's stomach was growling louder than normal during our morning meal. Several PSFs came by, asking her if she was still hungry, talking to her like she was a four year-old.

"Why didn't you just ask for more?" The officer asked, giving her a second bowl. "We don't want you going hungry, do we?"

I'd given her a guarded look, knowing there was no way the PSFs actually cared if we were hungry or not. They were playing at something, I just didn't know what yet.

She finished the second bowl, all of us hoping they'd walk away. But, of course, they didn't. Instead, they got her a third bowl. I watched her swallow looking at it. After years of the same portions everyday, she couldn't eat much more.

"Eat it," The officer said. "Aren't you hungry?"

So she did. Slowly. Cringing. But she did it.

They got her a fourth bowl.

On the sixth one, Shannon lurched over the table and vomited mashed potatoes across the surface. I couldn't even hold her hair back for her.

"There's just no pleasing you freaks!" The officer laughed. "You're too hungry, we give you more and you're too full! Clean it up, freak!" She grabbed Shannon by her ponytail, throwing her to the ground.

All three of us stayed behind with her to clean up the mess. After that, Shannon could barely stomach _looking_ at potatoes, let alone eating them. So we came up with a system. Shannon would get our rolls, then once Davaros had finished her potatoes, Shannon and her would switch bowls. Davaros would take a few bites, then switch with me, then I'd switch with Mary.

It still kind of amazes me what we were able to get away with at Thurmond. But after how many times we were punished, I guess it evens out.

Especially after the ending of that summer.

After a full day in the dog cages, a PSF came to bring me back to my cabin. But instead of one officer, four came. That was the first red flag.

My heart began pounding as they dragged me out, two holding back each of my arms and two trailing behind us. They weren't leading me back to my cabin. They were leading me towards the infirmary.

I tried to struggle, to throw my weight in the direction of my cabin. But the punch between my shoulder blades forced me back in step with them.

Blood was rushing in my ears as they forced me into an examination room. They could do whatever they wanted to me here. I'd seen dozens of kids with shaved heads and fresh scars, the kids they experimented on. Is that what they wanted with me? Another lab rat?

They were laughing as they slammed me into the dentist's office chair, two officers pinning either of my shoulders down. A clamp of metal went around my ankle, tethering me to the chair. Every horror story I'd ever witnessed was going through my head.

The girl who wouldn't stop screaming so they stapled her lips together. The girl that refused to work so they beat her until she lost an eye. The kids they cut open just to see what was inside.

Do they even count as horror stories if they're true?

"What are you doing?" I finally gasped out.

"You say something?" An officer holding my shoulder down turned to me.

I looked from him to the other two officers messing with medical supplies. One of them - the one that was always there to torment me - was holding what looked like a really thick fountain pen, but it had a wire coming off of it. Like it was electric or something.

"What . . ." My mouth was so dry. "What do you want . . . from me?"

"Don't worry," The officer holding the pen snickered. "You'll find out soon enough."

"I didn't do anything wrong," I said.

The woman turned, all playfulness out of her eyes. She slowly stepped up next to me in the chair, her eyes burning holes in me. She pushed her fists against my sternum, squeezing the air out of me as she leaned over my face. Her breath smelled like cigarettes.

"Just you wait," She hissed. "And you'll know exactly what you Tarrons did wrong."

It's hard to put that kind of terror into words. Knowing they could do whatever they wanted, and I would just have to sit and take it. Helplessly.

I forced myself to meet her gaze anyway.

"Allen!" She shouted, without tearing her eyes from mine. "You got the camera?"

The second standing officer produced a phone, holding it sideways. "Yep."

She grinned at me, something mad behind her eyes. I swallowed.

"Tell me when."

He touched a button on the screen. "When."

I felt the color drain from my face. Every part of me was being splashed with icy horror. Static was exploding in my head, my body screaming for me to run. To struggle. But I was frozen where I sat.

The woman's voice went soft. "Can you tell us your name, love?"

I looked up at her, the camera, then back to her. She knew my name. She literally just said it.

"Don't wanna talk? No problem," She grabbed at my chin. "You're pretty face will do just fine."

I jerked my face away from her, trying one final time to struggle. But their grip was like iron, keeping me stock still. That's when it dawned on me how hopeless struggling was. I was a fifteen year-old who could barely run ten feet without getting out of breath. They were trained soldiers.

"Do you know what this is, love?"

If she calls me 'love' once more time, I'll puke.

She held up the pen thing, pushing a button on it. Now that I could see the head of it better, I could see it wasn't a pen at all. The tip of it was a bent 'V' of bare wire.

"Well?"

I didn't answer, my eyes wandering from the officers to camera. Why were they recording this? What did they _want_ from me?

"No problem," She said. "I'll tell you. It's a wood burner. You know what that is?"

The term sounded vaguely familiar. I guess.

"No problem," Her face split into a grin. "You're about to find out."

"What are you doing?" I blurted as she climbed onto my lap, her knees digging into my thighs.

"Get her head down."

"What are you doing?" I screamed, thrashing whatever I could. Their gloved hands wound into my hair, securing me against the headrest. "Get away from me! Get off!"

I felt the heat before I felt the pain, panic bursting in my chest.

"No!" I shrieked, my back arching. "No, stop! Stop, please!"

A horrible sting shot across my whole forehead the second the wire touched me. I could feel it burn, feel it blister against me. I strained every part I could, desperately trying to struggle my way out of this. But it didn't matter what I did. They had me pinned.

"Stop it!" I screamed my throat raw. "Stop it! Please! Somebody _help me_!"

The woman just cackled.

I opened my mouth to scream once more, but all that came out was an earsplitting wail. The pain was resonating into my skull, the hot wire sliding so slow across my flesh. It started at the front of my right eyebrow, arching over my forehead centimeter by centimeter. She was savoring it. Making sure I felt every ounce of pain.

The stinging fire finally ended at the front of my left eyebrow. And she lifted off of me.

My chest was heaving up and down as I gasped at the air, my heart jumping out of my chest. The tears were cold against my cheeks. My fingers and toes had gone completely numb, maybe even my arms and legs. I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. I could only lay there and drown in my own panic.

"Let her go," The woman smiled. "She's chained down, she's not going anywhere."

The second my arms were free I threw my hands over my blistering forehead, cupping it against the air. "What did you do to me?" My voice wheezed with volume. "What did you do?"

"Now everyone's going to know what traitors you Tarrons are," The woman said. "Every time they look at your face."

"My parents are not traitors!" I shrieked. "None of us are! Why can't you people just leave me _alone_?"

"You wanna be left alone?" The woman's hand closed around my throat, throwing me back against the headrest. "You think I wanted to be left alone when the draft officers showed up at my door? You think I wanted to get stuck with you freaks? Well you'd be damn right!"

"Get off me!" I screamed, bucking my legs at her.

She drew her baton within a split second, barely giving me enough time to duck my head against the chair before she cracked it down on me. I wrapped my arms around my head, desperately trying to keep the blistering center of my forehead protected.

She was just beating me for show. Something to do in front of the camera.

"Stay down, Tarron," She spat into my hair. "It's where you belong."

And for the first time in three years, I spat back.

She stumbled back, blinking and rubbing at her eye. The look she gave me was of pure, unadulterated hatred. I returned it in full.

"I'm not afraid of you," I hissed.

She raised her baton. "That's gonna be your last mistake."

For that one moment, barely a split second, I knew it would happen. I knew she would kill me, right here in this chair. After all these years, all the punishments, all the blood. I'd finally come to the end. And I just felt . . . calm.

Before she could strike me again, before the baton could even come swinging down, the door to the examination room opened. Light from the hallway poured in, illuminating the figure standing there. A man, maybe mid thirties. Long beard. A take out box in his hands.

He took in the scene with wide eyes, sweeping over the five of us. "Officer Kubritz?"

The woman stiffened. "Yes?"

"You wanna tell me what the hell you're doing in my room?"

"We . . ." She was at a loss for words. "We didn't think you'd be back until later."

"I can see that," He replied. "Why is that child out of her cabin?"

"Er -"

"Put her back, Kubritz," The man snapped. "Now. And get out of my room."

The woman looked back at me, the hatred still burning in her eyes.

"This isn't over, Tarron," She hissed in my ear. And she dragged me back to my cabin.

When they threw me in, bloody and battered, I practically collapsed against the bunk post. Not from pain, just from . . . numbness. White hot numbness that made every limb feel too heavy to lift. The girls were at my side in an instant, all three of their eyes trained on my forehead.

"What -" Shannon stuttered. "What happened?"

"She would've killed me," I gasped, raking my fingers through my hair. "Oh my God, she would've _killed_ me."

"Aj, what are you talking about?" Mary asked. "What did they do to you?"

"They called me a traitor," I panted. "They called my whole family traitors and they - they -" Tears started spilling again, my hand cupping over my forehead.

"What does it look like?" I whimpered. "They wouldn't let me see it. Is it bad?"

Shannon slowly pulled my wrist away, exposing the burn. None of them spoke for a minute, just staring. Davaros put her index finger against the front of her eyebrow, drawing a small curve to her other brow.

"It's a little arch," She said.

"It's not bad," Mary blurted, running a hand down the back of my hair. "Really, it's not. But it - uh - it looks like it hurts."

I pinned my lips together. "It does."

"Well, you're safe now," She went to reach for my free hand but I ripped it away. I folded in on myself, not wanting to see the hurt in her eyes for the millionth time. She settled for a pat on my shoulder.

"You're safe now," She repeated. "You're safe."

The next morning, in the two minutes I was supposed to be in the shower, I stared into the cracked mirror that hung in the locker rooms. Davaros was right. It was an arch. A ridge connecting my brows. It was white, the skin around it red and puffy, extenuating it even more.

I reached up to touch it, letting the reality sink in. They branded me. Like cattle.

"Told you it wasn't bad," Mary said.

"It's actually kinda cool," Shannon added.

I glanced at her.

"Sorry. Too soon."

"It's okay," I sighed. "It just hurts."

"That's why you've got us, Aj," Mary winked. And I smiled.

The last thing to happen at Thurmond, the last thing that mattered anyway, was at the very end of the fifth winter. The winter of the flu outbreak.

They started stacking bodies in the courtyard, on the frozen dirt of the Gardens. The corpses were wrapped in nothing more than sheets, left to freeze until the officers would load them up into a truck to be driven off somewhere.

It was also the winter they transferred all Oranges and Reds out of the camps. I remember watching them go, seeing them shoved and chained, muzzles and all, into trucks. Like animals.

That could've been you, my mind said to me. I shook it off, swallowing the pain it caused. And I moved forward.

No matter how much I hated myself for it.

Ever since Shannon said that those who've had pneumonia are more likely to get it again, we'd been giving Davaros our blankets, sleeping two to a bunk for body heat. One morning, I woke up to Davaros shivering beside me.

"Hey," I whispered, touching her shoulder. "Davaros? Are you awake?"

No answer.

"Mary," I called across the cabin. "Shannon, I think something's wrong."

Shannon sat up first, rubbing her eyes as she climbed out of bed. "What?"

"Davaros isn't waking up."

Shannon knelt beside the bunk, shaking Davaros's shoulder. When she didn't get a response, she put her hand against her forehead. Her face fell.

"She has a fever."

Something inside me plummeted. "No," I whispered.

Shannon moved towards the opposite wall, but Mary beat her to it, slamming her fist against the panic button installed there.

Two minutes later, several nurses burst through the door, carrying a stretcher behind them. They loaded Davaros onto it, whisking away her shivering body.

We didn't see her for two days after that.

The infirmary was just getting more and more crowded, almost by the hour. Eventually, they started sending kids back to their cabins. 'Lost causes' they called them.

They dumped Davaros's limp body back into her bed that night, marking her a 'lost cause'.

She pulled her arms around herself as we knelt beside the bed, coughing in a way that shook her whole body. "I'm cold," She whispered.

I climbed into the bunk beside her, cocooning her in a blanket and pulling her into my arms. "You're gonna be just fine," I promised her. "It doesn't matter what they say. You're safe here."

"Aja?"

"I'm right here," I said. "We all are."

"Can you tell me a story?"

A laugh bubbled up my throat, tears falling with it. "_My_ story?"

"No," She coughed again. "I wanna new one."

"A new one," I muttered. "Did I ever tell you about the milk fairy?"

"Milk fairy?" Mary asked.

Davaros shook her head into my shoulder.

"Well," I ran my hand over her hair. "When I was like, five, my papa told me that milk was delivered by fairies. So Krel and I decided to climb into the back of a milk truck to see if it was true."

Shannon smirked. "Was it?"

"Disappointingly, no," I said. "But we did manage to knock over several bottles, one of which broke over my head and knocked me out for a good three minutes."

"That's a long time," Davaros said.

"It was," I replied. "But the guy driving the truck eventually found us - well, he found a four year-old crying his eyes out that the milk fairy had killed his big sister. Let's just say it took him a minute to figure out what had gone down in the back of his truck."

"You and Krel . . . got into a lot of trouble . . . together," She wheezed.

I laughed, more tears falling. "You have no idea."

"Aja?"

"Yes?"

"Tell me another story."

So I did. I told her every story I could possibly think of. I told her about the first and last time Krel experimented in chemistry and ended up making a very small bomb. I told her about the time I broke my first skateboard over Bill Wither's head for saying girls couldn't fight as well as boys. I told her about all the times I'd run away. I told her about the first and last time I'd tried a cigarette and how Varvatos had lost his mind at me for it.

I told her about my mama and how much I missed her. I told her about the sky and the stars and all the constellations I had memorized. I told her about the wide world and how I was gonna see all of it one day.

"Will you take me with you?" She asked.

I squeezed her tighter. "Of course, Davaros. Once we get out of here, we'll go everywhere together. All of us will."

Mary and Shannon had both fallen asleep by now, leaning on the edge of the bunk. Exhaustion was pulling at my eyelids too, but I fought to keep them open. A part of me knew what was going to happen. A part of me knew this was going to be last chance I had to talk to my little sister.

"You're so brave, Aja," Davaros coughed. "I've always tried to be brave like you."

"I'm not brave," My voice broke. "I'm scared all the time. You should be brave like you."

"I'm scared too," She said. "I'm really scared, Aja."

"We're all right here," I said. "You're safe as long as you're with us."

She didn't say anything for a while. Long enough that I almost thought she'd fallen asleep.

"I don't wanna leave my mama," A broken sob made her shoulders rattle. "I don't wanna go without seeing her again."

"You'll see her again," I whispered. "I promise, you will."

"Can you hold my hand?"

I saw Mary lift her head, just a little.

Davaros craned her neck to see me. "I know you don't like it when people touch you. But . . ." She held out her trembling hand. "Can you help me be brave? Just this once?"

Tears were streaming silently down my face. I couldn't say no to her. I couldn't make her understand what happened when I touched people.

But I couldn't let her do this alone.

Hesitantly, slowly, and painfully, I slipped my hand into hers. I'd almost forgotten what skin on skin contact felt like. Her hand was rough and patchy, almost papery. And warm. Very, very warm.

I didn't feel it happen, not at first. But as Davaros began shifting around to see me again, when she looked at me with as much shock and confusion as my own parents had, I knew. And it broke me.

Again and again, Thurmond had broken me. None of it compared to this. Knowing that all I could ever do was destroy. Knowing Davaros was going to die in a stranger's arms. And it was all my fault.

"Who are you?" Davaros asked, her hand going limp around mine.

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. Nothing but a silent sob I barely kept at bay.

"Are you an angel?"

I looked up at her again, seeing her watch me through hazy eyes. She looked back down at the hand she was holding. Mary and Shannon had their heads off the bunk, staring at our hands too. When they looked back up at me, I saw something change in their eyes.

"Can you tell my mama I'm sorry for not staying in the car?" Davaros asked, her voice so hoarse I barely recognized it. "Can you make it so it doesn't hurt so much?"

"Yes," I finally said, squeezing her hand. "Your mama loves you so much, you don't need to be sorry. It's gonna be okay. I promise everything is gonna be okay. You're so brave, Davaros."

I held her hand in mine until it went cold. Until I heard the last strangled breath exit her lungs and she became so horribly still.

Until she was dead.

It was in the morning when she died, I knew because of the cracks of sunlight coming through the door. I climbed out from under her. Empty, hollow, and numb. Kneeling beside Mary and Shannon, I pulled the blanket over Davaros's face, wrapping her in it one last time. I don't know how long we all knelt there, quietly crying. Brokenly sobbing. And even though we were all together, I'd never felt more alone.

Sometime after it was done, after we'd all cried ourselves silly, I felt Mary turn to look at me. When I looked back at her, I saw her red, swollen eyes. But something in them was different. It was wary. Afraid.

"You did something to her," She said.

She might as well have put a knife through my chest. Maybe a knife wouldn't have been so painful.

"You're different, aren't you?" She said. I faced the mattress. "That's why you don't like people touching you. Because you're not like us. You're not Green."

I watched my tears drip onto the padding of the bunk, wondering if I'd cried enough to drown in them. I'd never thought about this. I'd thought about PSFs catching me. Not anyone that cared about me.

Or at least used to.

Mary's eyes glared fire into me. "What did you do to her?"

I didn't answer. Instead, I slid my hands underneath Davaros's cold body, lifting it off the mattress. Not even a minute later we stood single file as PSFs lead us out. They let me take the detour to the Gardens, gently laying Davaros against the frozen ground. She's away from all this, I told myself. She's somewhere safe. Happy.

But she deserved so much better.

I ran my hand over her blanketed forehead one last time, letting the last few tears drip onto the fabric. Before Thurmond, I'd never had a little sister. Now, I will always have one.

A PSF was staring at me. That was what made me look up.

A woman. Maybe late twenties. Her helmet was pulled over her face, but she was clearly staring at me. I expected her to charge. To beat me away from the bodies with her baton. But she didn't move. She just watched.

So I stood, wished my little sister a final goodbye, and left her to rest.


	13. 13

**Maybe There Is A God**

Davaros was gone.

The thought was sinking in as I made my way back to work.

She was really gone.

We were on kitchen rotations, me coming to stand beside Mary and Shannon as we scrubbed pots with scalding water. We were all still crying, silent tears dripping down our faces. But every once in a while, they would look at me different. Like a glare and stare combined. They didn't trust me anymore.

They didn't know me anymore.

The PSF was still looking at me. She'd followed me into the kitchens, standing closer than PSFs usually stood as her eyes bored into me. I glanced over my shoulder at her, just to make sure it was me she was staring at. Of course, it was.

I turned back to my station, trying to ignore her. But the feeling of being watched, the prickling on the back of my neck, never left. Every once in a while I'd hold up the surface of whatever pan I was scrubbing to use as a mirror, just to see if she was still there. She stood there for three hours. Just watching me.

What was her problem?

She was approaching.

My body went stiff, bracing for the blows she was no doubt about to give me. Mary and Shannon froze too, but there was no sympathy in their eyes for me. Not anymore.

The woman stood right at my back, so close I could feel her shoulder brush mine. Her hand reached over, gripping the pot I was holding. Did she . . . want it?

With one movement of her arm and she'd ripped the pot right out of my hands, throwing it to the ground. The metal clanged against the concrete, making everyone turn to look.

. . . Okay?

Before anyone could even react, her hand shot against the sink handle, and suddenly scalding water was splashing against my face, making me stumble back from the sink. She held out her foot as I tripped, catching the back of my heel and landing me hard on the cement.

What was she trying to do?

Kubritz rounded the corner, her eyes flaring as she approached. As if she'd just found the perfect reason to punish me. Tripping.

"Pick it up, Tarron." She stabbed a finger at the pot.

Slowly scooting forward, I pushed myself onto my knees and grabbed the handle, easing myself back up to my feet.

"What happened to invisible?" She asked, pouting her lips.

I turned back to the sink, ignoring her. I've never been good at being invisible.

Her breath was suddenly fanning over my neck. "I told you this wasn't over."

I shot a glance over my shoulder at the PSF. She was still staring at me. Calm. Neutral. My eyes narrowed at her. She was just like all the others. Seeing how much she could hurt us before we finally broke for the last time. Just for the fun of it.

Burn in hell, my mind hissed at her.

"Newbie!" Kubritz shouted. The woman finally took her eyes off me. "Grab her. I'm gonna show you what we do with the mutts around here."

Kubritz can burn with her.

The woman stepped forward, taking hold of my arms and pulling me away from the sink. I waited for the shoving. The bruising feeling of their fingers digging into me. But it . . . didn't happen.

Her hands were soft around my arms, guiding instead of shoving. Supporting instead of digging. I couldn't remember that last time someone had been so gentle with me.

No wonder she was new.

The woman guided me out of the building, across the courtyard and into the shed, Kubritz ahead of us. The woman didn't even throw me to the ground once we got inside. She just released me. Letting me stand there on my own.

Was I dreaming?

It was Kubritz's punch between my shoulder blades that sent me to my knees.

Okay, not dreaming.

"You know what to do," Kubritz hissed.

The door to kennel was already open, so I forced myself forward and crawled inside. Going in feet first is always better. That way you have more air since your head is closer to the bars. But it also means whatever insults the PSFs want to throw at you, they get to throw them at your face.

Kubritz slammed the door shut, the clang ringing in my ears as the lock slid into place. I rested my head down on my arms, it was as close to comfortable as I was going to get.

"Have fun in there, _mutt_," She spat against the bars. "It might be the last time you ever see it."

I didn't want to think about what she meant. My heart was too broken already.

"Come on, Newbie," Kubritz barked, leading the woman away. "You've got rounds to finish."

I almost thought I saw the woman glance back at me. I willed myself not to care. I didn't need her pity.

It could not have been ten minutes before the woman returned.

As soon as I heard footsteps approaching the door, I dropped my eyelids, evening out my breathing. Like I was asleep. Or unconscious. Is there really a difference in this place?

The door opened, PSF boots coming in. I wasn't sure what they'd come in here for, probably something painful, but I was just hoping my state would make them come back later. Maybe buy me a few hours of peace.

Maybe.

I felt the PSF creep closer, kneeling down in front of the cage. Every hair on my neck stood on end as she stared at me. I could feel tears begin to threaten behind my eyes. Why couldn't she just take what she wanted and leave me alone? Why couldn't anyone just leave me alone?

"I know you're awake."

I forced myself to remain still. But something about her voice, it was tugging a memory from my brain. I'd definitely heard it before. Maybe on TV? Maybe in the infirmary? Yeah, that made more sense.

"Aja," Her voice broke. "Please open your eyes."

I did.

Not once, in all the years I'd been at Thurmond, had a PSF addressed me by my first name. I'd been called dozens of colorful terms by dozens of different officers. But no matter how creative they got, none of them had even come close to my first name.

My real name.

When looked up at her, I could see her shoulders shake as she cried, the rest of her stiff as she tried to hold herself back. Her hand was trembling as it reached through the bars. I instinctively recoiled.

"Who are you?" I blurted out. "What - what do you want from me?"

The woman laughed, almost humorlessly. "It really has been that long, huh?"

Her voice . . .

"What are you talking about?" I said. "What do you want?"

The woman reached up, undoing the buckle beneath her helmet. I braced myself for whatever psychopath would be lying underneath it. But no amount of bracing could've prepared me for what I saw.

I saw Asian eyes. Fair skin. And short, thick, black hair. I saw my drill sergeant of a babysitter. I saw -

"Zadra?"

I couldn't believe my eyes. I just couldn't. None of this could possibly be real. Zadra - she - she couldn't be real.

But when her gloved hand reached through the bars to grab mine, I felt it. I felt it like it was real.

"I'm here, Aja," She said.

I shook my head, tears falling. "Is - is it really - it can't - Zadra are you -"

"It's really me," She promised. "I'm really here."

Her gloved fingers touched my wet face. ". . . How?" I gasped out. "How are you . . . _here_?"

"It's a long story," She laughed a little, tears in her eyes. "I can explain it all on the way."

"On the way?" I reached up to touch her hand, everything in my head spinning. "What do you mean? Why are you here?"

"Why do think?" She asked. "I'm getting you out of here."

Something sparked inside me when she said that. Something that I didn't even know existed anymore. Hope.

"Come on," She said, the lock squeaking as she undid it. "We don't have much time."

The door came swinging open as Zadra pulled me out and into her lap. I threw my arms around her neck, sob braking through my throat as I clung to her. Her arms wrapped around me instantly, crushing my ribs and holding a hand over the back of my head.

"It's really you," I cried. "You're really here."

"What?" She laughed again. "You thought we would leave you here?"

I buried my face in her shoulder. I'd forgotten what she smelled like.

"Come on," She pulled me up to my feet. "We need to get moving."

"Where?" I asked, suddenly very out of breath.

"Away from here," She slipped her helmet back on. "We're going to the infirmary, alright?" She produced a face mask from her pocket. "Put this on and pull your hair down. Make sure no one can see . . . you."

I felt her eyes linger on the brand, the one connecting my eyebrows. But there was too much flying through my head to question it. I just pulled on the mask and hung my head, letting my hair dangle in front of my eyes. Zadra took both my arms again, guiding me out of the shed as though she were detaining me.

She held me just the way she had before, more like a hug than a hold. I savored what I could from it.

We walked through the camp, passing lines of kids and loads of PSFs. None of them gave us a spare glance. And we didn't give them a reason to.

Zadra steered me through the doors of the infirmary, leading me along the bleached halls passed examination rooms and beds full of coughing kids. We were almost at the back door when a doctor called to us.

"Hey, you!"

We froze.

"Is that child sick?" The doctor came speeding towards us. I ducked my head lower. "This place just went under quarantine. Nobody's leaving."

I felt Zadra's hold on me tighten.

"She's sick with something else," She replied. "Not the flu. I have orders to quarantine her elsewhere."

"Can you prove that?" I watched the doctor stretch his arms out. "Got any clearance or something?"

"How about a direct order?" Zadra snapped.

"Look," He spread his hands. "I don't make the rules. I just get paid to follow them. If you don't have clearance, then you're not going anywhere."

"What was your name again?" Zadra hissed. "I'd like to tell the Colonel exactly who defied her orders and got have the staff infected."

"And I'd like to tell the Colonel about the PSF who tried to take a kid through my infirmary without clearance," He stepped forward, reaching for me. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got -"

I wrenched my hand free from Zadra's the second before he could grab me, locking it around his bare wrist. A trickle in the back of my mind burst into a roar, images flashing in front of me. But I forced them all away and pushed one line into his mind.

_You never saw us._

_You never saw us._

_You never saw us._

My brain flared with pain, burning and grinding as it took over my whole body. But I didn't care. I could endure any pain if it meant getting out of this hell hole.

_You never saw us._

_You never saw us._

_You never saw us._

The doctor stepped back. His eyes went glassy and distant. His feet shuffled him around. And he left back down the hallway, proceeding to yell at another PSF for touching an IV.

Zadra wasted no time in grabbing my arm and yanking me through the door, but by then I could barely keep my feet under me. The room was like a parking garage. Empty, concrete, and cold.

She lowered me down to sit against the wall, the cold seeping through my uniform. My head was swimming in pain. Drowning in it. I sucked at the air, trying to get at least my breathing under control. I was seeing spots.

"Are you alright?" Zadra asked. "What did you do?"

"I made him . . ." Blood filled my ear. "I made him think he never saw us."

Zadra didn't reply right away. "Just breathe, Aja. I need to change."

". . . Change?"

She pulled her uniform shirt over her head, revealing a nurse's scrubs underneath. "Change."

With the PSF uniform tucked and hidden in a corner, Zadra came back to lift me off the ground, not even bothering to ask if I could walk. She carried me across the garage to the nearest car, a pick up truck. In the bed sat a large metal box, a strange symbol and the word 'BIOHAZARD' printed on the front of it.

Zadra heaved it open with one arm, gently laying me down inside of it. Just before she could lower the lid again, an overwhelming pressure erupted in my chest. Was this just another dog cage? Would I even be able to breathe?

I caught the lid with my hand. "No," I cried. "Wait, please -"

"We don't have any time, Aja," Zadra pulled my hand away from the lid. "I'm sorry. It won't be for too long, I promise. Just keep quiet and keep breathing. Everything will be fine."

The lid closed, and I was left in the dark.

I pulled my hands over my head, focusing on the feeling of truck move. I was moving. I was getting out of here. This wasn't another dog cage. So why couldn't I stop thinking that?

"ID?" A voice asked, making me freeze. It was a man's voice, deep and gruff.

"Doctor Begbie," Zadra's voice said. "I'm staff at the infirmary."

"I see you've been scheduled," The other voice replied. "You're shift isn't over yet, why are you going off campus?"

"Medical waste," Zadra said. "It's my rotation to take care of it."

"I see."

There was quiet.

"Would you like to check it?" Zadra asked, almost like a dare.

". . . No," They said. "No, that's fine. You're cleared."

And the truck drove on.

I still didn't move. For forever, it seemed. I could barely breathe, my head thrumming like someone was taking a hammer to my skull. I part of me wondered when I was going to wake up back in Cabin 27, when I was going to realize this was all some crazy dream.

The truck stopped.

I heard Zadra's footsteps approach and then the blinding light of the gray sky as she opened the box. "Are you alright?" She asked.

I pulled off the mask, panting as I nodded.

"Here we go," She muttered, scooping me up in her arms and carrying me to the passenger seat of the truck. My eyes wandered around us. An abandoned road, surrounded by trees and fields. When was the last time I'd seen a _tree_?

"Here," Zadra held out some aspirin and a water bottle. "This should help with your headache."

I wordlessly took them, leaning my pounding heart against the seat.

"It's a little chilly today," Zadra reach over to grab a blanket from the back seat, laying it across my lap. "In case you get cold."

My hands shook as I stared at the blanket. As I stared at all of it. "Is it real?" I asked. "Am I really out of there?"

Zadra smiled softly. "Yes. You are."

I sobbed again, my eyes darting across the sky. I just couldn't believe it. I was out. Thurmond was far behind me.

She put a tender hand on my shoulder, drawing my eyes back to hers. She was holding something out to me. "Take this."

It was a necklace, a silver chain with a small pendant at the end. No, not a pendant.

"It's a panic button," She slipped it around my neck. "It works like a tracker, but only if you push the button and activate it. Keep it on you in case we get separated again."

I could only nod, shock still buzzing in my chest.

Zadra climbed into the driver's seat, pulling the truck forward on the road. "You don't know how good it is to see your face again."

"I could say the same about you," I laughed halfway through a sob. "I just . . . how did you even_ do_ this?"

"I didn't," Zadra shrugged. "This whole thing, it was Krel's plan."

My heart stopped in my chest. My head whipped towards her. "Krel? You mean . . . he's okay?"

"He's just fine, Aja," She said. "He was the one that helped us find you."

I put a hand over my mouth, tears raining down. Krel was alive. He was safe. And he'd been looking for me.

Maybe there is a God.

"Wait," I croaked. "What do you mean 'us'?"

A shadow went over Zadra's face, her hands adjusting on the wheel. "Aja, you've heard of the Children's League, haven't you?"

"Yes," I said. I'd heard whispers about them in Thurmond, usually from newer kids. They talked about them like they were some saving grace. I'd known better. Besides, anything that good was never true.

"After you're parents went into hiding," She said. "I . . . gained affiliations with them."

"You joined them?"

She sighed. "It's complicated, Aja. I did it to try and find you and your brother. And your parents."

I sat up. "Did you?"

Another sigh. "No, I didn't."

"But you found Krel."

"More like he found us," Zadra shrugged. "I don't know the full story, but wherever you two were when you were caught, Varvatos had followed you there. He was able to get Krel somewhere safe, but by that point . . ."

I looked down.

"Krel was able to track down the League a few months later, something about hacking their servers?"

I smiled to myself. Of course he did.

"The point is," Zadra gave me a wary look. "Krel made a deal with the League. He's a part of them now. You need to understand that."

"What?" She might as well have slapped me. "Why would he do that? He knows they're dangerous."

Zadra pinned her lips together. "Like I said, it's complicated. Well, no, I guess it's not. The facts are, Krel couldn't get you out without the League, and the League couldn't do some other things without him. So, they made a deal."

"They needed Krel for something?" I looked at her. "He's eleven. What could they possibly want with him?"

"Actually, he just turned fifteen."

I stopped. Oh my God. That's right. Why had I never thought of that?

"Still," I said. "What has he been doing for them?"

"That's," She paused. "Not exactly my story to tell. What you should know is that he's been planning ways to get you out since he found us. We never forgot about you, Aja."

It's hard to describe how I felt. On one hand, tears of joy and relief were in my eyes. My family hadn't left me. They'd never left me. But on the other, what was the catch? What had Krel given up to buy my freedom? My insides began to knot together just thinking about it.

"Zadra?"

"Yes?"

"I'm glad it was you," I said. "I'm glad it was you who came to get me."

She smiled, reaching over to touch my shoulder. "I am too."

We drove for a few hours, me leaning my head against the window as I drank in the view of the wide world. The warmth and comfort of the seat. The way the water droplets danced on the window as the rain began.

Putting my hand over the switch, I rolled the window down, letting the wind burst over my face. My hair whipped around me, the little raindrops sprinkling across my nose as I eased my hand out into the air. I relished the feeling of the wind, the force and pull of it as it filled the car. How free it was.

"Lively," I whispered.

Zadra snickered.

"What?"

She shrugged. "Oh, nothing. I just owe your brother twenty dollars now."

"Huh?"

"Never mind."

I rolled the window back up, the car going quiet again. "Where are we going?"

"Right now, we are going to a rendezvous point," She replied. "Then we'll be heading to Georgia. The League has a base there."

"We're . . . going to the League." It wasn't a question.

"Aja," Zadra spoke slowly. "We'll be at the meeting spot soon, and before we get there, I need you to understand what's going to happen."

I swallowed. "Okay."

"The League doesn't have the time, patience, or resources to go breaking kids out at random. When they do it, it's for a reason. You are no exception to that, Aja. They have a plan for what you're going to do next. It was a part of Krel's deal from the beginning."

"They know I'm Orange," I said to my lap. "Don't they?"

Zadra sighed. "Krel told them. It was the only way to get them to listen."

"Listen?"

She ran a hand through her hair. "Oranges are every bit as powerful as they are rare, which I'm sure it something you know by now. They are considered to so dangerous, that . . ."

I glanced at her.

"PSFs are ordered to kill them now, Aja."

"What?" I squeaked.

"It was an order made sometime last year," She said. "Any Oranges or Reds that are caught are euthanized immediately."

Like dogs, my mind said.

I thought back to the kids being herded into trucks. Being driven away, never to be seen again. What had they done with those kids? Had they killed them too?

_That could've been you._

I shook my head to clear it.

"You were very lucky, Aja," Zadra continued. "And the League agrees. It was the one thing that was able to convince them you were worth their resources. They weren't about to pass up an opportunity to acquire an asset like an Orange."

I thought back to Mary and Shannon. To all the Green girls. All the Blue girls. Just left there to waste away. And for what reason? Because they weren't 'powerful' enough? How could anyone think like that?

"So," I said. "I'm not . . . I'm not free. I'm out of Thurmond, but now I'm in the League."

"I'm sorry, Aja," She said. "Believe me, I am. But the League is not Thurmond. No one is going to hurt you like that anymore. Besides, you're going to have me, Krel, and Varvatos -"

"Varvatos is there?"

Zadra shifted, a tension on her shoulders. "Yes, he's waiting for us in Georgia."

I thought for a moment, trying to decide how I felt about that. "Has he been with Krel?"

"I suppose," She twisted her lips to the side. "Things have been . . . tense between them, especially when they first joined. But Varvatos has put as much effort into this as Krel has."

"Did you know?"

Zadra didn't answer right away, but she knew exactly what I was talking about.

"I found out before you two did," She said. "But no, I didn't."

I leaned my head on the window again. "I just can't believe how much I've missed."

"We'll get you up to speed," She smiled. "You're already halfway there."

We turned off the road onto a beaten path leading towards the back of an abandoned gas station. The rendezvous point, I guess.

"There's one more thing you need to know," Zadra said, pulling the truck to a stop. "The person we're meeting is another League officer. They had their own breakout to stage, but on their way back, they picked up Krel."

My head snapped towards her. "You mean -"

A car came off the distant road, parking in front of the building. There was someone in the driver's seat, and someone in the passenger.

Oh God.

When I looked back at her, I had tears in my eyes. My heart was pounding in my ears. I could really see my little brother again. After all this time.

"He tagged along to see you," Zadra said. "But, you don't have to see him if you're not ready."

"Wait, what?" I asked. "What do you mean 'not ready'?"

"It happens sometimes," Zadra replied. "Especially with kids who have spent a lot of time in camps. Sometimes they're just not ready to see family members again. And that's okay, Aja. I'm not going to make you do anything you don't want to do."

"Are you kidding?" I tried to laugh but it sounded more like a sob. "Of course I want to see my brother! Is he there? In that car? Can I see him now?"

Zadra chuckled, but I could see tears in her eyes too. "Yes, you can see him now."

Opening her door, she signaled the driver of the other car with a nod, striding over to my side of the car. It was still raining when she opened my door, little sprinkles of water dotting my scalp as she pulled me out.

"Can you stand on your own?" She asked.

I nodded but my knees felt like jelly. My stomach was suddenly overwhelmingly nauseous. When I saw the passenger door open, the feeling spiked.

Then Krel stepped out of the car.

**(A/N): Sorry if i've been quiet, i've never been too good at these little ending notes, but i guess all i can say is thanks for giving this crazy fic a chance and sticking with me this far! if you're enjoying the story up to now, leave a review or whatever you wanna do. in the mean time, have fun with the cliff hanger ;)**


	14. 14

**Hey Brother**

It wasn't exactly the best view of my little brother's face, being nearly twenty feet away. But I knew it was him. And I knew he was different.

As much as I wanted to run to him, I was completely frozen there on the ground. He was the one that walked forward. With every step I could see him clearer and clearer. I could see how his face had gotten just slightly longer - slightly more matured. How his shoulders had grown broad and how his arms had filled out. I used to call him the scrawny one. But now I looked like a toothpick next to him.

He -

He looked like Mama.

He was several inches taller, but still not as tall as me. His hair was still shaggy, but not as bad as the last time I'd seen him. Four and a half years ago. Oh God, four and a half _years_.

Krel stopped a few feet away from me, the two of us staring at each other through tear filled eyes. He'd changed - grown. I could see it in his eyes. In his posture. He wasn't the eleven year-old boy I'd left behind in those woods. Then again, I wasn't the twelve year-old girl that had left him there either. We'd both changed. But that barely mattered.

What mattered was that he was here. I was seeing him again. We were together again.

"Aja," His voice was considerably lower than what I remember. It sounded so much like Papa's it hurt. "You're . . . you're here."

"Yeah," I hiccuped. "I - I am."

I watched his eyes go to the brand between my brows, and a few tears fell down his face.

"Four years later," I brought his eyes back to mine. "And I'm still taller than you."

He choked on the laugh, more tears spilling over. His feet carefully stepped forward, barely coming within another foot of me. He was moving so cautiously, like if he got too close, I'd run away.

I opened my arms. "What are you waiting for?"

And just like that, he launched himself into me. His chest slammed against mine so hard it knocked the wind out of me. But I didn't care. He could crush the life out of me and it wouldn't be tight enough.

We dropped to our knees, clutching each other as we sobbed. I put my hand over the back of his head, just like Zadra had done for me. I felt his shoulders shake against mine, burying his face in my hair. He was so much bigger - so much fuller to hug.

He'd grown up.

"I missed you so much," He choked out.

I squeezed him harder, my mouth opening to say something, but nothing was coming out. There were no words for how I felt in that moment. For what it felt like to be whole again. So instead, I pressed a kiss to the side of his head and crushed him against me even more.

"That is one hell of a happy ending."

I looked up without releasing Krel, watching the driver of the other car step out. He was a tall man, with dark hair and blonde eyes. What a strange combination.

He nodded to me when he caught me staring, his voice deep and gravely. "I was beginning to think I'd never see you in person, Miss."

I closed my eyes, burying myself in Krel's neck again. I'd forgotten what he smelled like too. Like fresh bread and aged paper.

Zadra touched my shoulder to get me to lean back. "Why don't you two get in the truck?" She asked. "Zeron and I have some things to correlate."

"Zeron?" I looked back at the man.

He gave me a single nod.

"Come on," Krel pulled me up by my arms. He was still wearing rubber gloves.

We climbed into the backseat of the truck, Zadra closing the door behind us and then approaching the other car. For the first time, I noticed that Krel was wearing nurse scrubs. Almost identical to Zadra's.

"What are you wearing?" I asked, unable to stop smiling. "Where have you been?"

"That," Krel replied. "Is a crazy long story. But the scrubs were from Zadra. I just got back from an Op."

"A what?"

He waved his hand. "It doesn't matter."

"You're right," I leaned forward to hug him again. "It doesn't."

I felt his tears wet the fabric on my shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Aja. I'm so, so sorry."

"What are you talking about?"

He just shook his head. "I'm sorry. I'm just so sorry."

I kissed the side of his head again, hugging him tighter. "We're together now, that's what matters."

"Terrible Tarrons, back at it again."

I giggled at our old elementary school nickname. "You're damn right."

"Your hair," He tugged on a few strands. "It is very uneven."

I felt my heart sink a little, remembering who had cut it like that. I pinned my lips together, trying to hold back a bitter layer of tears. Krel noticed the change in my posture, leaning back with concern.

"What's wrong?"

I shook my head, wiping away the tears. "It's nothing."

"You know you can tell me anything, Aja," He rubbed my arms. "Even if it's scary . . . or sad."

I took a deep breath. "Not yet. I'm not ready yet."

"Well, whenever you are," He said. "I'll be here. And - and I'm not going anywhere."

"I'm not going anywhere either," I promised.

He leaned into my open arms again, hugging my waist and setting his head against my shoulder. It felt so surreal to be with him again. Too good to be true. There was still a gripping of fear weighing in my chest. A fear that all of this was a dream. That in just a moment, I'd wake up in Cabin 27, ready for another day of work.

I pinched myself.

"So," I started. "The League."

Krel sighed, his shoulders hunching with it. "It's . . . complicated."

"That's what Zadra said."

"I know your mad -"

"Oh, I'm furious," I rubbed my hand up and down his arm. "But not at you."

He looked up at his own words. "You're not?"

"What you did got me out of there," I said. "I'm proud of you, Krel."

"I don't feel very proud."

"That's why I'm here," I squeezed him tighter. "To be proud for you."

His head lowered back onto my shoulder. "I've missed you so much. It's been so hard to be brave without you."

More bitter tears filled my eyes, but I bit my lip and blinked them back. "It's been hard to be brave without you, too."

He sat up, wiping his face. "So, did Zadra tell you what we're doing next?"

I exhaled. "Georgia?"

"Yeah," He nodded. "They're going to want to get you on a team there."

"A team?"

"That's how it works in the League," He explained. "All Psi kids get sorted into teams of like four or five. Then you train with your team in every way imaginable, and once you're ready, you get sent out on Ops."

"Ops?" I tilted my head. "Like _Black Ops_?"

"Actually, kind of," Krel said. "They're like missions, I guess. I usually work with Greens and other Yellows, so the majority of my Ops are just me hacking into different security databases."

"What does that mean?"

"It means if every Op were a break-in, I'd be the guy who disables the alarm and picks the lock."

"Aw," I rubbed the top of his head. "Look at you. My little brother putting his genius to good use by breaking into people's houses."

"For the record," He ducked out from under me. "I've never broken into a _house_. But I have hacked three hospitals."

"Of course you have," I rolled my eyes. "I'm gonna guess that's why you're dressed like a nurse?"

"Yeah," He shrugged. "It was last night's Op."

I turned my head to glance out the windshield, watching Zadra and 'Zeron' discuss something in front of the hood. "What are they talking about?"

"Zeron's Op," Krel's tone went bitter. "And how he completely failed it."

I blinked. ". . . I'm also gonna guess you and Zeron don't get along too well?"

He glared off to his left. "You could say that."

"What's wrong with him?"

"There's nothing wrong with him," Something in Krel's tone changed. It went flat, emotionless. "Have you shaken his hand yet?"

My brows pinched together. Krel knew better than anybody why I didn't touch people. There is no way he had just forgotten that over the past few years.

"No," I answered. "Why?"

He gave me an odd look. "Just wondering."

Wondering _what_?

"How did he fail his Ops?"

"Just _Op_, Aja," He replied. "Singular. And he failed because he didn't complete it. His job was to go to a camp a couple hours south of here and get a few kids out. But whoever they were, he . . . lost them."

There was that same tone with the last two words. Ominous. Like there was a double meaning to it. The glance he gave me out of the corner of his eye just confirmed it. Something was definitely up with this guy, and Krel was trying to tell me. But why couldn't he just come out at say it? What was making him act so cryptic?

"Is everything okay with the League?" I asked. "Everything okay with what they want me to do?"

Krel shrugged innocently. "Well, what do _you_ want to do?"

I thought for a moment. What _did_ I want to do? I wanted to help other kids, I knew that. But I had no clue how to even begin doing that. I wanted to survive. I wanted to stay with my little brother. And now that I was out of Thurmond, I wanted to continue that.

"Do they care what I want?"

"No." He said it lightly. Matter of factly. I could see it in his eyes, he was trying to get me to say something.

_What?_

"Well," I glanced to my left. "What if I decided I don't care about what the League wants?"

"You're not supposed to do that."

"No," I grinned, remembering the conversation we'd had years ago, when I ran away for the very first time. "You're just not supposed to get caught."

Zadra opened the door, cutting of our conversation. "Come on, you two. We gotta get going soon."

I followed her out of the vehicle, seeing Zeron hold a backpack out towards me.

"Some necessities, plus a change of clothes," He said. "Every kid in the League gets one. Even Clyde, here."

He tossed a much rattier looking bag towards Krel. "Yep," He said as he caught it, sending the man a flat smile. The same smile he used to give patronizing teachers.

"There's a bathroom in the station," Zadra said. "The water should be clean enough, but don't drink any of it."

I nodded, following Krel up the path into the building. He glanced back at me, then down at my hand. It was barely a pointed look. If I hadn't been paying attention I would've just thought he was making sure I was following. But if I'd learned anything at Thurmond, it was how to pay attention to people's eyes.

_Have you shaken his hand yet?_

I slowed my steps a little, letting Krel get several paces ahead before I hit the edge of my toe against my heel. I threw all my weight on the bent foot, instantly rocking forward just as I passed Zeron.

The man reacted instantly, his bare hand catching my wrist.

And I was in.

I saw vague and loose memories of childhood. They were blurred down to nothing more than a rush of scenes and feelings. The woods at night. Sticky fingers and fruit snacks. An old blanket and the smell of rain.

Slowly, I thrashed for the surface, the memories began getting clearer. I saw a college and smelled cigarette smoke. I saw long hours of training. I saw a brother and a sister that would follow me to the edge of the world. I felt heavy guns and hot blood. I listened to different clients giving different names, but all with the same price.

The clearest memories hit as soon as my head broke the surface, driving me back down. I saw computer screens and circuit boards. I saw pages and pages of plans and Ops. Then I saw Krel - more specifically, I saw over his shoulder to the face of his laptop. Whatever it was, it made me angry.

I felt my hands rip the device away from Krel. Then, like a scene switch, I felt my hand close around Krel's throat.

_You think anyone's going to believe you?_ My voice said. But it didn't sound like my voice.

Then I saw kids, in uniforms just like mine. A Blue girl and a Yellow boy. They were sitting, crouched back against a concrete wall. The boy's chin was lowered to his chest, probably unconscious. The girl was looking up with absolute terror in her wet eyes.

I watched her face crumple. Her lips peel back as she begged. 'Please,' Her lips said. 'Please.'

But I didn't care.

I even thought the glint on the gun was pretty as I pressed it against her head. There was barely a bang, more of a splatter as the color red coated the wall behind her. Her red. And then the boy's red too.

Just another client.

I ripped myself back out of his mind, stumbling back, blood rushing in my ears.

"Careful," He chuckled. "Watch your footing."

He was smiling, like he hadn't just killed two kids point blank. Like he hadn't heard them beg for their lives. I blinked away the shock, desperately trying to shake off the icy feeling his mind had left behind. That's how he felt now. Numb.

You're not him, I told myself. And I walked into the gas station.

Krel raised an eyebrow at me as we entered. I looked back at him with all the horror I couldn't hide. I opened my mouth to say it - but Krel held a finger over his lips, shaking his head.

'Not here,' He mouthed.

But I understood. That was enough for now.

"You can use the bathroom first," He said.

I shook my head. "I had a shower this morning."

He gave me another glance, as if asking if I was okay.

I managed a nod.

Why couldn't I get rid of this feeling?

We stood back to back as we changed, and I cannot tell you how good it felt to take off that uniform. I'd forgotten how comfy it was to wear leggings. How clothing didn't have to be scratchy or baggy or papery. It could be soft, fitted, and warm. Like the sweater dress I'd dug out of my backpack. I'd never been the biggest fan of plaid, but it was the most lively thing in the world compared to my uniform.

"You think they'll be talking for a while?" Krel asked.

Another cryptic look.

"You tell me," I replied. "Don't you know them better?"

"Maybe ten minutes," He said. "Zadra isn't a conversation person."

"Maybe more if they expected us to shower."

"Like a grace period," He said. "Remember? Back at school?"

Of course I remembered grace periods. They were the academy's version of flex time, fifteen or so minutes for students to get help from teachers. But most days, I used it to find a way off campus. And, eventually, a way off the base.

Krel and I locked eyes again, the message going between us.

"You know what else reminds me of grace period?" I asked.

"What?"

"That lively window back there," I pointed past his head, at the window that had been cracked open.

"I see what you mean," Krel replied, grabbing his bag and approaching it with me. "I'm sure you have tons of memories with grace periods and windows."

I narrowed my eyes.

"What?" Krel lowered his brows. "Am I wrong?"

"Just get it open," I growled.

Krel hooked his fingers underneath the window pane, giving it a tug before sliding it up. Shooting one last glance at Zadra and Zeron, I climbed onto the back counter and eased both legs out into the air.

I landed in the grass, completely out of view from the parking lot.

Whipping back around, I reached up to help Krel out. Turns out he didn't need much. Not that the sticks I currently had for arms would've been too helpful anyway.

I caught the rubber on his wrist just as he started into the woods. "What about Zadra?" I whispered.

"She can handle herself," He replied.

Grabbing my hand, he tugged me across the line of trees. But something in me was aching. I'd just gotten Zadra back, and now I was leaving her again. I never knew how much I'd missed her until then.

"We'll see her again," Krel said. "But we need to go. Now."

He released my hand, the two of us pacing into a run. I was winded after five steps, but I pushed myself forward anyway, reminding myself I once ran a five-minute mile. Of course, that was almost four years ago, but still.

"So where . . ." I panted. "Where are we going?"

"I don't know."

My head snapped toward him. "What do you mean you don't know?"

"You're the expert on running away."

"Yeah, on the _base_," I replied. "We're . . . we're in the middle of nowhere."

"Just think of it like a giant game of fugitive," Krel said, his breathing much more even. "You loved playing fugitive."

"Emphasis on _playing_."

"Just think of something!"

"Fine!"

I came to a stop, leaning on a tree for support as I gasped.

"Are you okay?" Krel asked, stopping beside me.

"Lively," I panted.

"Do you need something? Water?"

"Aja!" Zadra's voice echoed from beyond the tree line. "Krel!"

"Motivation?"

"The shortest distance between two objects is a straight line," I blurted. "So . . ."

Grabbing Krel's rubber hand, I tugged him off to the side, the two of us breaking through the shrubbery as quickly and as quietly as we could. We ran for about thirty more seconds before switching directions again, turning our path into a zigzag pattern.

I was the first one to face plant, my foot catching some stray branch and my hands too tired to catch me in time.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Krel asked as he helped he sit up.

"Fine," I said. My chest was burning. My throat was sticking to itself when I swallowed. "I just haven't . . . ran in awhile."

"Aja! Krel!" Zadra's voice called again. "Come back here!"

"Come on," Krel heaved me up by my arm to continue our sprint. "What do we do now?"

"We have to . . ." My throat gave me another sticky swallow. "We have to find a hiding place."

"Like climbing a tree?"

Climbing a tree sounded down right phenomenal. It had been an unholy amount of time since I'd done. But that's when we finally broke into the clearing, noticing the black car that had been left there. It was a van - a minivan. The words: _Betty's Laundry Service_ were printed on the side in big curvy letters.

It looked too clean to be abandoned. But why else would it be out here?

"There!"

We stumbled towards it, me half leaning on Krel at this point. The side door was unlocked, so we heaved it open together. There were several bleached sheets crumpled in the corner. Empty bags of chips, a few granola bar wrappers. Other than that it seemed pretty clean.

Climbing across the two back seats, we collapsed over each other on the floor before Krel shot back up to shut the door. I stayed sprawled on the floor, trying to catch my breath.

"Again," Krel said. "You _sure_ you're okay? You sound like a dying lawn mower."

"What a compliment, little brother."

He smiled. A smile that was so completely Krel - no matter how much he'd grown. It made me want to cry all over again for how much I'd missed him.

Someone was coming. Two sets of footprints cutting across the grass from behind the car.

_Shit_.

Scrambling to the back of the truck, I ripped up the sheets and threw them over us. The smell of bleach burned in my nostrils as we crammed ourselves into the corner, laying over one another beneath three layers of fabric.

The footsteps continued to the driver's seat. I held my breath.

"I told you this was a bad idea."

That . . . was not Zadra's voice. And it definitely wasn't Zeron's either. It was male yes, but younger. And somehow familiar.

"But did you listen to me? No! You never listen to me!"

"Relax, Eli," A second voice replied, equally familiar.

Eli?

"It's not like they saw us. They were probably just squatters anyway."

"You don't know that for sure."

"Oh yeah, and you do 'cause you know everything?"

"Yeah, kinda!"

"Would you just buckle up?"

I risked sending Krel a glance in the dim light coming through the sheets. I had to know if he thought the voices were familiar too. It was killing me trying to place them with faces.

But when he looked back at me, he just looked confused.

The engine seemed to rattle as it started. My heart began to pound, but I forced it to slow. They were just driving. Driving us further away from the League, to be more specific.

Thanks for the ride.

The truck started forward, rolling and jostling as it went. Krel and I rocked with it, bracing ourselves against the wall to try and keep still.

"Did you eat all the granola bars?"

"No, they're in the back somewhere."

"Go get me one."

"Get one yourself."

"I'm driving and I'm starving!" The second voice replied. "It's not like you're doing anything."

"I'm formulating."

"Now is not the time to quote whatever nerdy shows geeks like you watch."

"Its _Earth Invaders_!" The first voice cracked a little. "And you watched the season finale with me!"

"Nope. Don't remember. Didn't happen."

"You have a very convenient memory."

"Shut up and get me a granola bar."

My head was pounding, both from the headache and from scrambling to try and place these voices. I had to have known these two, whoever they were. Were they from Thurmond? No, I hadn't known any of the boys since they'd kept us separated by gender. Could I have known them before that?

"Just give me one second to -"

The voice cut off without warning, the car going silent.

"Who is that?" The second voice asked.

"It's them! I told you! I told you they were trolls!"

"For the last time, Eli, we don't -"

The first gunshot cut him off, pinging against the bumper of truck.

"Do you believe me now?"

"Fine! Fine! They're trolls, ya happy now?"

Another gunshot pounded against the back doors of the car, making Krel and I flinch. The two boys at the front swore, followed by some distant shouting.

"Pull over and we won't hurt you!"

Now _that_, that was Zadra.

"Faster, Steve!"

"Quit back-seat driving, buttsnack!"

"I'm not in the back seat!"

Steve?

No. It couldn't be. Could it?

A third gunshot interrupted my thoughts, making Krel and I glance at each other. I could see the same feeling in his eyes. Whoever these boys were, they were kids. And we'd just dragged them into our mess.

A fourth gunshot.

"Pull over, I won't ask again!"

"Steve!"

"I can't concentrate with all your nagging!"

This time Zeron spoke. "Krel! Krel, you're treading on thin ice and you know it!"

"Huh?" The second voice asked. "Do they think we're someone else?"

"They're probably looking for someone."

"Why would they be looking for someone if they're trolls?"

The fifth gunshot shattered one of the back windows, spare bits of glass spilling over top the sheets. Suddenly, the truck made a hard left, throwing me and Krel against the wall. There were several minutes of quiet driving before the second voice spoke again.

"Who do you think they were looking for?"

"That would be us," I announced, throwing the sheets off Krel and I.

"What the -" The two boys in the front seat whipped around, the car stuttering.

With a final swerve, the driver managed to skid the car to a stop, allowing both of them to crane around and stare at us again. The driver had wide eyes and an open mouth. The boy in the passenger had his face set into a glare.

It took a full two seconds for me to finally recognize them. I blinked, again and again because it just could _not_ be them.

"Steve?"

He blinked right back at me. "Aja?"

"Krel?"

Krel sat up beside me. "Eli?"

We spent a solid three minutes just staring at each other.

They didn't look too different. Steve had definitely gotten thinner. Eli was barely more than skin and bones. And his hair, it had been buzzed against his head, the shadow of scars peeking through.

Oh.

"What are you guys _doing_ here?" Steve finally gawked.

"We could ask you the same thing," Krel replied.

"You're the ones who broke into our truck," Eli snapped.

"We didn't break in," I said. "It was unlocked. We thought it was abandoned."

"Aren't you guys supposed to be . . ." Steve glanced at Eli. "Dead?"

Krel and I glanced at each other. "What gave you that idea?"

"Well you guys did disappear after your house burned down," Eli said. "The whole town just kinda assumed the worst."

"Oh yeah," I muttered.

Krel looked at me. "Our house burned down?"

"Apparently."

"You guys didn't know?"

"We left because we went on the run," Krel said. "Something you seem to understand."

"Speaking of which," Eli said. "Who are you guys running from?"

"Aja! Krel!" Zadra's voice again, not too far off the intersection.

"Doesn't matter," I blurted. "We're leaving." I jumped to my feet and stumbled to the door. But Steve locked it before I could pull it open. "Hey."

But Steve was too preoccupied with our backpacks to notice my complaint. "Those guys are with the League," He said. "Aren't they?"

Krel and I glanced at each other.

"Let us out," I said. "We didn't mean to get you guys involved. We thought the car was abandoned."

"Figures," Eli muttered. "The hunk of junk this thing is."

"Hey," Steve said. "Don't talk about Black Betty that way."

Krel tilted his head. "About who?"

"Where are you two!" Zadra's voice was closer this time.

"Steve, unlock the door," I said. "We're sorry we got you shot at, but if you let us out we can deal with it."

"Yes!" Eli turned back to Steve. "Let them out! Need I remind you how many trolls we have to worry about? We don't need the League on our tail, too."

He looked at me steadily for a moment, as if trying to read my expression. "Do you want to go with them?"

I stopped, suddenly wanting to read his expression too. But he was completely guarded, just waiting for a reaction.

"Steve," Eli groaned. "Why does it matter?"

"I just wanna know!"

"Why?" Krel snapped. "What's it to you?"

"Yes or no," Steve repeated. "Do you want to go with them?"

That's when Zadra's red pick-up sped around the corner, flying towards us.

"New question," Steve blurted. "Can either of you drive?"

"I can!" I shot my hand up. At least, I could. When I was twelve.

Krel held up a finger. "Um -"

"Great! Come up here," Steve climbed out of the driver's seat, reaching for my arm.

"Wait, no," I yanked away from him. "Don't touch me."

". . . Okay." I could tell he was confused, but we didn't have to time for questioning.

I climbed into the seat, gripping the wheel and throwing my foot on the gas. The car lurched, throwing Steve directly onto Krel.

"Ow!"

"Outta my way, buttsnack!"

"Okay," Eli braced himself against the dash. "I guess we're moving now."

"My bad," I giggled.

Krel sat up rubbing his shoulder. "Is there a reason Eli can't drive?"

"Trust me," Steve replied. "You don't want him behind the wheel. He's as blind as Domzalski's grandma."

Eli glared back at him. "I'm still smarter than you."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, buttsnack."

I watched through the rearview mirror as Steve threw open the two back doors of the truck, his feet firmly planted over the broken glass of the window.

"Speed up!" He shouted to me

I pressed the gas harder, but the car was barely inching up in speed. "It won't go any faster!"

"Then hold her steady!"

Zadra's car just kept getting closer the longer she tailed us. But Zeron was the one to stick his torso out the passenger window and fire three times into the open van. Steve ducked against the shots, Krel pinning himself to the ground and pressing his face into the carpet. The car jolted from the shots, pings sounding as it tore at the metal. But there were no cries of pain.

On the third shot I watched Zadra reach over and drag him back into the car. "Don't shoot at my kids!" She screamed.

"Everybody okay?" I asked.

"Okay," Krel called back.

"Hold her steady, Aja!"

I pressed the gas as far as it would go, listening to a faint whining from the engine. My knuckles were white around the wheel, my arms barely able to keep the truck moving straight. I nearly ran the car right off the road when I saw the tree.

It had been uprooted right out of the dirt, moving through the air as if being lifted on strings.

Eli had to grab the wheel to keep us going straight. "It's okay," He said. "It's just Steve."

"Steve?"

Craning my neck back, I saw Steve raising his arms out, carefully positioning them towards the road. _Blue_, my mind said. He was using his abilities. He was . . . good at them.

No one was ever allowed to use their abilities at Thurmond. The one time a Blue caught a falling sewing machine she disappeared for months. When she came back, her head was shaved and she had fresh scars across her bare scalp.

To see him using them now, almost effortlessly, it was . . . unreal.

The tree scraped into the road, landing with a loud _crunch_. Zadra's car was forced to swerve to the left, halting before the giant block in the road.

I exhaled a breath I didn't know I'd been holding, looking back at the road in front of us. I could suddenly feel how bumpy the road had gotten. Or . . . maybe that was just the truck.

"We've got a flat," Eli grumbled. "Get off the road and pull over."

When I'd brought the vehicle to a full stop, Steve and Eli set to work on the popped, back tire. Eli grabbed the spare from the back while Steve waved his hand over the nuts and bolts, unscrewing them all with his mind. Krel and I climbed out after them, wordlessly watching.

"You just got out of a camp," Eli looked up at me. "Didn't you?"

I grabbed my backpack strap, gripping it in front of my chest. I opened my mouth, but no words came out.

He pointed to my feet. "You're still wearing your identification number."

I glanced down at the standard slip-ons still clad on my feet, my ID number written on the right shoe in permanent marker. Huh.

"It's okay," Steve said. "We just got out of a camp too."

Krel raised an eyebrow. "You did?"

Eli shot Steve a warning look.

"What?" Steve innocently shrugged. "They're not trolls, they're . . . friends . . . from school."

Eli shot us a suspicious look. "They're with the League."

"No," Krel snapped. "We're not."

"Really?" Eli stepped forward. "Cause judging by the fact that your backpack looks at least two years old and you're not a walking skeleton, you've been with them for a while."

"Yeah, well I'm not anymore," Krel spat. "End of story."

I glanced at him, wondering if he realized how behind I was on everything. And I didn't have Zadra to fill me in anymore.

Eli turned his gaze on me. "Then why would the all-powerful-League give up their oh-so-precious resources to break _you_ out of a camp, huh? What makes you so special?"

I gripped my backpack strap tighter. "Uh . . ."

"She was a code breaker," Krel spoke up. "One of the only Greens they'd let into the control tower."

". . . Right," I managed a nod. "And I have a photographic memory so . . . they thought I could help them hack into other camps."

"Oh yeah," Steve said. "Isn't that your guys's thing? Didn't you once hack the power grid for the science fair?"

"Yep," I chirped. "That was us."

"Well, it's been nice knowing you guys are alive," Eli started back to the passenger seat. "Give the League our regards."

"What are you doing?" Steve asked. "We can't just leave them here."

If looks could kill, Steve would've withered into a pile of dust right then and there. "We agreed," Eli said. "No strays."

"That was over a box of kittens -"

"No strays!" Eli stabbed a finger at him. "We agreed it would be best!"

"You are never gonna let that go, are you?"

"They were defenseless kittens!" Eli threw his hands up. "And your black heart decided to leave them under a mailbox! A _mailbox_!"

"Yeah, as fun as this is," Krel said. "We'll be fine on our own."

Steve turned to look at me. "At least let us drive you to the bus stop. It's not too far from here, and it's on the way -"

"Steve!"

"They're kids," Steve replied. "Not kittens."

"Yes, but we're also not defenseless," Krel narrowed his eyes into Eli. "We don't need anything from you -"

"But," I rested my hands on Krel's shoulders. "A ride would be nice. Wouldn't it, little brother?"

He folded his arms, grumbling under his breath.

Eli leaned against the side of the truck. "Where are you guys even going? Cause I'm sure it's _very far_ -" Another glare at Steve. "- from where we're going."

I glanced at Krel again, hoping he'd fill me in at least a little. He looked back at me, releasing a sigh.

"There's a place in New Jersey we need to check out."

New Jersey? What could possibly be there? Except for the shore, I guess.

"Really?" Steve's eyes lit up, but the light quickly died as Eli punched him in the shoulder. "Ow! What the flip, buttsnack!"

Eli just glared.

"Oh come on!" Steve threw up his hands. "They're kids! Remember what Jim told us?"

I cocked my head. "Jim?"

"Steve," Eli hissed through gritted teeth. "Look at her forehead."

I took an instinctive step back, hitting Krel's shoulder as I did so. My throat constricted as I looked away, clamping one hand over my arm to keep from touching the scar - now throbbing for attention. Suddenly, I wanted nothing more than to fold up and disappear.

Krel stepped in front of me, folding his arms. "What about it?" It wasn't a question. It was a dare.

Eli glared back at him for a moment, then turned back to Steve.

"They're still kids," Steve said.

"You know what? Have fun," Eli grumbled, heading back to the passenger seat. "Go ahead, spill our secret. Why don't you paint it on a billboard while you're at it?" And he slammed the door extra hard.

"Sorry about him," Steve's gaze went soft. "He can get grumpy with this stuff, I guess."

"That's a gentle word for it," Krel muttered.

I elbowed him.

"The point is," Steve continued. "We're headed to New Jersey too."

I felt myself smile. "Really?"'

"Yeah," He replied. "There's this place there, Trollmarket, ever heard of it?"

I shook my head, but Krel's brows lifted. "You mean with the Trollhunters? That place is just rumor."

"Believe me," Steve winked at me. "It's real. Eli and I can attest to it."

Krel rolled his eyes. "And how's that?"

"We know the Trollhunter," He said. "We were in the same camp. We teamed up with him to stage the break out."

"Break out?" I asked.

"That was _you_?" Krel raised an eyebrow. "You helped stage the break out of Caledonia?"

"Basically ran the whole thing," Steve replied, stretching his arms to flex them. "Me and Eli? We got deemed the Creepslayerz - with a 'Z'."

"Lively," I said.

"So you know the Trollhunter?" Krel asked.

"Sure do," He said. "It's Jim."

The name tugged on my memory, making me pin my lips together as I thought. "Jim Lake?"

"That's the one," He said. "Him, Claire, and Domzalski - they're the Trollhunters. And _we're_ the Creepslayerz."

"Trollhunters," I repeated. "Like they hunt bounty hunters?"

"Kind of," Krel said. "According to the rumors, they started by taking down groups of trolls and rescuing captured kids. Then they set up 'Trollmarket' as a safe haven." He looked back at Steve. "You're telling me all that's true?"

"And they're our friends from Arcadia?" I added.

He nodded in reply. "I mean, the first Trollmarket did kinda get busted, and that's kinda how we ended up in Caledonia, but that's why they're making a new one in Jersey. That's where they headed after the break out. We were supposed to follow them, but things got . . . complicated and we were separated."

I understood that. Krel and I both did. But neither of us said anything.

"What do you mean 'break out'?" I asked. "Like, you _actually_ escaped a camp?"

"Hard to believe, I know," Steve stretched his arms again. "But it's hard for even the best to contain the Palchuk."

"I don't think that's what she meant."

My eyes went down, trying to imagine how they must've pulled that off. If they weren't allowed to talk to each other, how did they do it? How did they even make it to the fence without being shot? Without White Noise being played to pacify them?

"What camp are you from?" Steve asked.

I looked back up at him, not knowing what to say for a moment. "Thurmond."

Something in his face changed. But not the look I usually got. It was different. Almost like . . . I was another wounded kitten he'd just found in the road. It made me shift the straps on my shoulders, suddenly uncomfortable.

"Thurmond?" He asked. "As in . . . Franken-kiddies?"

"They stopped testing," I said, almost defensively. Why was I suddenly defensive of _Thurmond_?

"Look," Krel cut in. "Thanks for the getaway car and all, but we need to get going."

"We can still give you a ride," He said.

"We are going to the same place," I reminded Krel. "Might as well."

"And if this place in New Jersey doesn't work out," Steve shrugged. "You can always come with us."

I smiled. "Yeah, we could."

Krel gave me a flat look.

"Come on," I gave his shoulders a shake. "It'll be an adventure."

"I hate it when you say that."

"At least to Jersey," I said. "Then if we part ways -"

"_When_ we part ways -"

"It'll be no harm no foul," I finished.

Krel took a moment to glower.

"_Adventure_," I reminded him.

"Fine," He mumbled. "Only to Jersey."

"Totally," Steve grinned. "But we better get going - oh, and what _is_ the place in Jersey you guys are headed to?"

Krel shouldered past him to the car. "None of your business."

I wondered if it was any of my business.

**(A/N): sorry it took so long to update guys . . . kinda ;) but seriously, i promise to keep updates more consistent and daily from now on. until next time, enjoy the story loves!**


	15. 15

**The Sock Scene™**

We climbed back into the van, Eli pouting in the passenger seat and Krel pouting in the back seat. I took the seat behind the driver's, leaning forward as I watched rain begin to pelt against the windshield. It was so small of a thing to notice, and yet, so beautiful.

"Did you check them for trackers?" Eli spat at Steve, sending us another glare. "The League never lets anyone go anywhere without trackers."

"You don't think we know that?" Krel retorted.

I didn't know that, I thought.

"I made sure we ditched all the trackers a while ago," He pulled at his collar, exposing a small cut in the fabric. "See?"

I looked down at my own collar, finding a similar hole. Like someone had hid something in the seam, but Krel had cut it out.

"You sure you got all of them?"

Krel gave him a mock smile. "Pretty damn sure."

I was suddenly very aware of the panic button hidden under my shirt. I almost opened my mouth to say something, but then Steve cut off my thoughts.

"So you're a Green?" He asked, easing onto the gas.

I choked, forcing my hand to stop fiddling with my collar. "Uh, yes, yes, I'm a Green. Yep. Green."

Krel face palmed beside me.

"I'm Blue, which you probably already knew," He said. "Judging by those rubbers, I'm gonna guess you're a Yellow. Or maybe you're just happy to see me."

"Wow," Krel folded his arms. "Never heard _that_ one before."

"And Eli's Green."

"Did you tell them our social security numbers, too?" Eli asked.

"Would it kill you to be nice for ten minutes?" Steve replied, but there was a certain tone in his voice. Like he was mocking someone.

Eli flushed, ducking lower in his seat. "That's not fair," He muttered.

"Here," Steve reached over into the glove box, pulling out a book that had the words _Unexplained_: _Supernatural Stories for Uncertain Times _printed on the front. He tossed it, letting Eli catch it out of the air. "Happy now?"

Eli settled back down, muttering under his breath as he thumbed through the book, letting me see a few ghastly looking pictures from over his shoulder.

The car got pretty quiet after that, the only noise when Steve and I talked back and forth. We talked about old memories in Arcadia. Old teachers and things that we remembered. He talked about how the collections got more and more severe in Arcadia after we left. How him and Eli ended up in Caledonia.

I talked about being on the run. After at least ten warning looks from Krel, I left out most of the details, telling him about the little, in between moments. Like trying to get drunk off of Diet Coke. Pirating movies. And all the push up contests I always won.

But I knew I wouldn't win one now.

Halfway through yet another long stretch of silence, Krel finally spoke up.

"Can we at least turn the radio on?"

"I'm reading," Eli replied.

"I think you're smart enough to read and listen at the same time."

Eli shot him a glare over the seat.

"Some music sounds nice," Steve said, me giving him an enthusiastic nod. I hadn't listened to music since Thurmond. Damn, I hadn't even thought about that. How many things had Thurmond taken from me?

Steve punched the button on the dash and music began filling the speakers. It was like . . . organized beeping? More of a ringtone than a song. High pitched and repetitive. Krel could handle it for all of ten seconds before he climbed to the front.

"Let me do it," He said, slapping Steve's hands away.

After messing with the knob for a moment, he landed on the steady beat of an oldie. Maybe late seventies? Whatever it was, it was making me sway my hips in my seat.

"I've missed music," I said, more to myself than anyone else. But Krel still heard it.

I watched his shoulders lower a little, something pinching his face in pain as he climbed back to his seat. I looked back at him with a questioning gaze. He just pulled his mouth into a smile and shrugged it off.

That's when it sunk in for the first time. Krel blamed himself. He blamed himself for getting me into Thurmond.

Something inside me was begging to say something to him. But . . . I couldn't think of a single thing that would make him feel better. I couldn't think of anything. So I just turned in my seat and pretended to fall asleep.

It was dark when the van edged to a stop, making me open my eyes. We had pulled up into a motel, the kind Varvatos used to take us to. Small, crummy, in the middle of nowhere. It made my chest ache with the memories.

"You guys stay here," Steve said. "Eli and I are gonna go . . . investigate."

"Knock yourselves out," Krel replied.

And they were gone.

"Krel?" I craned my neck back to face him. "Can I ask you something?"

"What?"

"Actually several somethings."

He shrugged. "Okay."

"First off, why are we going to Jersey? If not for the whole 'Trollmarket' thing."

He sighed, shifting a little in his seat. "It's about Mama and Papa."

I sat straight up. "It is?"

"I think I may have found some kind of signal, I don't know," He screwed his lips to the side. "I think it might be them, Aja."

I sat back against my seat, my eyes watering just at the thought of seeing Mama and Papa again. "Did the League know you were looking for our parents?" I laughed. But Krel didn't laugh back. He just smiled and shrugged.

"You know," I said. "You can tell me things too. Even if they're scary or sad."

He sighed. "I know."

"Which actually leads me to the next something."

Krel looked down, bracing for it.

"Who's Zeron?" I asked. "When I touched him, I - I saw you in his mind."

"You did?"

"Yes," I thought back to the image. "He caught you doing something. And he was mad - _really_ mad. He told you no one would ever believe you."

"Yeah," Krel said. "That happened."

"What did he catch you doing?"

He glared at the ground. "It's not good, Aja."

"That doesn't mean you can't tell me."

He looked back up at me, something guarded behind his eyes.

"Are you . . . are you trying to protect me?"

"I just said it's not good."

"And I just said you can tell me anything," I replied. "Krel, I'm the older one here, you don't need to shield me from things."

His brows lowered.

"You know what I mean," I ran a hand through my hair. "Look, you don't need to protect me. Whatever it is, trust me, I can handle it."

"That's what I'm afraid of," He muttered.

We both fell quiet for a moment, a hot rock settling in my stomach.

"You," I swallowed. "You didn't ask about my scar."

Krel froze.

"Steve and Eli noticed it within ten minutes of seeing me, and the only reason you wouldn't ask is if . . . you already know."

He didn't say anything, but I saw the tear fall down his face. Climbing over the seats, I lowered myself beside him and brushed it away with my sleeve.

"I know they recorded it," I said. "Why did they send the video to the League?"

"They didn't," Krel croaked. "I - I hacked them. It was in the Colonel's personal files."

"Why there?"

"They sent it to someone," He said. "Someone in New Jersey."

I felt tears fill in my eyes. "You think they sent it to Mama and Papa?"

He exhaled a broken breath. That was all the answer I needed.

I leaned back against the seat, my fingers rubbing over the skin. Sometimes I could still feel it, that awful sting and seemed to penetrate my skull. Sometimes it flared and burned until my whole forehead was left throbbing. It made me think of _Harry Potter_ and his scar. At least his hurt for a reason.

"I'm sorry," Krel whispered.

I turned to look at him, the tears cold against my face. He was crying too.

"I'm - I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault," I said.

He reached up, his rubber thumb touching the ridge.

"It's okay," I told him.

His hand dropped. "Don't tell me that. Do not tell me that, Aja. Not when we both know it's not true."

"Krel, listen to me," I turned in the seat, fully facing him. "Maybe I'm not okay, but maybe nothing's okay. But I'm not - I'm not a little lost kitten. I'm not . . . helpless."

"Thurmond is one of the biggest camps," Krel said. "Because of that, it's notorious for being the worst. And believe me, I've done the research, they are."

I managed a laugh. "So this is what being babied feels like?"

"I'm not babying you," He said. "Aja, I didn't just see that video. I saw all of them."

I sat back, my brows pinching together. "What are you talking about?"

"Security footage," He said. "Thurmond has cameras everywhere. When I hacked them, I - I was able to watch for you, to confirm where you would be when and if the rescue plan worked out."

My eyes widened with horror, hot shame flushing in my stomach. "How long ago was that?"

"Long enough."

I pinned my lips together, turning away as I tried to keep the tears back. He'd seen all of it. All the things I'd so desperately wanted to protect him from, he'd already seen.

"I'm so sorry, Aja."

I squeezed my eyes shut, my voice dropping to a whisper. "Please stop saying that."

"But -"

"But nothing," I turned back to him, a spark of fury in my chest. "What happened wasn't your fault, Krel. So cut the bullshit out of your head. You didn't do this to me."

He looked up with bloodshot eyes, a horrible pain behind them. "You don't understand."

"Hey, guys," Steve poked his head in. "We found a place round back, but you gotta be quiet - hey, are you guys okay?"

We'd both instinctively turned away from him, wiping at our eyes.

"We're fine," I said.

Steve held my gaze for a moment, almost looking like he would say something. But then he gave me a gentle smile and nodded towards the motel. "Come on," He said. "But stay quiet."

Heaving Krel behind me, we climbed back out of the car and through the back window of one of the rooms. It was small, adding the four of us made it down right cramped. But I guess I was used to that by now.

"You can take the bathroom first," Steve said to me. I looked back at Krel, but he just parked himself on the chaise in the corner for some more pouting.

"Thanks."

For the first time in four and a half years, I wasn't limited to a two minute shower. And it wasn't absolutely frigid water either. It was nice, just to be able to sit there and feel the water on my skin. To take time and notice the world around me.

Especially the panic button still hanging around my neck.

I slipped it off, holding it in my hand to examine it after I'd dressed again. There was a little cut in almost every article of clothing the League had given me, evidence of all the trackers they had tried to stick on me. But this is the only one Krel hadn't been able to disable for me.

I rolled the silver pendant across my palms, considering what to do with it. I could crush it under my heel. Drop it down the drain. Throw it out the window and not care where it landed. But then I remembered the last time Krel and I were on our own. Walking in the woods until we collapsed. Having no where to go when PSFs came.

The memory clung to me like a wet towel, wringing my insides in a way that wouldn't cease until I slipped the button back over my head and dropped it beneath my collar.

Shaking off the cold feeling in my stomach, I went through the backpack I had for anything that could be used for shoes. Thurmond was far behind me, and I wanted to leave that disgusting ID number behind with it.

Of course, there wasn't.

So I just raked my fingers through my hair in an effort to brush it. It had grown a little ways past my shoulders by now, but the ends were still so horribly uneven, no matter how Mary had tried to fix it.

That's all I was doing, just thinking about those girls in Cabin 27. All the things we'd done. All the stories we'd told. All the things I'd left behind in Thurmond. Then the sobs started coming. Almost without warning.

I put my hand over my mouth, forcing myself to keep silent. I had a feeling the walls in this place were not the thickest and I was _not_ ready to have the three boys I was traveling with hear me break down just yet.

I dropped to my knees at the center of the room, hunched over myself as I cried, my chest racking up and down. All I could see was Davaros. Mary. Shannon. All the girls I'd known there. All the girls I'd left behind in that hell hole.

But oh God, Davaros. The only way to describe what it felt to think about her was bitter. It was bitter knowing she deserved so much better. It was bitter knowing how horribly unfair it was. All she knew was love, friendship, and innocence. And Thurmond had destroyed her anyway. I buried my face in my hands to contain the scream.

This morning, I lost my little sister. Hours later, I got my little brother back.

Oh the irony.

Someone was knocking on the door.

My head shot up, the sobs dying in my throat. I frantically wiped at my face, sniffling the perspiration under my nose. "Yes?" I forced my voice not to shake.

". . . Aja?" Steve asked. "It okay if you, uh, open the door? Just for, uh, just for a minute?"

I stood up on jelly knees, still wiping my face. "Yes, I'll be a minute."

I splashed some water from the sink across my face, hoping that would erase enough evidence before cracking the door open.

Steve didn't say anything at first, just thrust out his arm and the pair of socks he was holding in his hand. The tips of his ears were bright pink.

"Uh," He swallowed. "I just thought, um, you might, you know, need these."

"Oh, it's okay," I said. "The slip-ons I've got are really breathable. They don't need socks."

"It'll get cold," He blurted. "You know . . . socks help with that."

"But it's Spring," I said. "Isn't it getting warmer?"

"Yeah, but it's been raining so -"

Behind him, Krel let out a long sigh. "Aja, just take the damn socks and put the oaf out of his misery."

Steve's face went as red as his ears, but he held out the socks out to me all the same. I smiled, something in my chest growing lighter as I took them. "Thanks," I said, then closed the door.

"Smooth," I heard Eli say. "You've got a way with the ladies, pal."

Steve grumbled something in reply.

"You should've just left her alone," Eli retorted. "I told you she was fine."

But I wasn't. And somehow, Steve had known.


	16. 16

**World Class Bullshit**

Eli and I took the bed that night.

I offered it to Krel but he flat out refused and Steve insisted there wasn't a problem with him sleeping on the floor. I tried getting comfy on the sheets, but I couldn't stop tossing and turning. Sleeping in the same place at the same time for so long left me at ends for sleeping any differently. But I knew I would need the rest so I kept trying.

I was turned with my back towards Eli, so I didn't notice when he shifted around. But I did notice when his arm barely brushed mine. I didn't even have time to pull back.

Suddenly I was being drown in darkness. It was suffocating, thick and tangible. It was _real_.

There are hands all over me, dragging me down and pinning me to some kind of gurney. I screamed and screamed, but the muzzle clamped around my face forced a bit into my mouth, the tang of metal sweeping across my tongue.

Blinding lights above. Rough straps cutting into my skin. Surgical gloves snapping. Monitors beeping. And fear. Horrible, paralyzing, _nauseating_ fear.

A whirring sound drowned out the rest of the world. Above me, I saw the light reflect off the bone saw. A feeling I can't even describe fell over me. Not fear. Not terror. Dread. Acceptance. And pain. So much, again and again.

Fingers prodding at me - _inside_ me. In places I didn't know I could feel. Voices laughing as I cried. As I lost control and felt the sting of urine against my legs. And more pain, a cycle going round and round. Until death was a mercy. A prayer.

Then the world was gone again.

Eli bolted up beside me, gasping and sweating. I was too, but I managed to keep myself still. I felt the bed shift as he bolted off of it, hearing what could've been sobs as he ran for the door. But there was another sound, like he was scratching his head - vigorously.

The unlatching of the knob had Steve sitting up, Krel too.

"Eli?" Steve groaned, blinking to see clearer. "Eli, where are you -" Cutting himself off, he stumbled to his feet and worked his way over to the door, chasing after wherever Eli had gone.

Krel blinked a few times, his eyes bright red but his posture unchanged. Apparently he was more accustomed to waking up in the middle of the night than I thought. He gave me a questioning look, but I just laid back down, tears trailing down my temples. My hands were shaking and I couldn't get them to stop. Something inside me was buzzing with fear, wringing with it.

I'd always wondered what it was like for those kids, the ones who were experimented on. Now that I knew, I wish more than anything that I didn't.

"Are you okay?" Krel sat up from the chaise. "Did something happen?"

"I touched him," I whispered. "It was an accident."

Krel stood walking over the bed. I sat up, letting him sit beside me. "What happened?"

"I saw his nightmare," I buried my hands in my face. "I - I _felt_ it - God, it was so real."

His hand rubbed small circles into my back. "What was it?"

I opened my mouth, but there were no words. Nothing could describe what that was like. I buried my face in my hands instead, a terrible sting going through my forehead.

He wrapped an arm around me. "It's okay, Aja," He said. "Everything will be okay, I promise. Just breathe."

I closed my eyes and leaned into him, relishing the way it felt to hug him again while I waited for the fog in my aching head to leave. For the fear of the nightmare to loosen its grip on my throat.

After a moment, I craned my neck back, seeing Steve and Eli out the open door. I could really only see Eli's hand as he gestured, the rest of his body hidden behind a car. Steve was watching with drowsy yet serious concern.

They talked quietly for a moment, and then Steve stepped forward, both of them disappearing behind the car.

"It's not fair," I breathed, still staring out the door.

"Remember when Mama and Papa used to tell us that?" Krel asked. "That life isn't fair?"

I leaned my head on his. "I never thought they meant like this."

"I don't know if they did either."

I wrapped my arms around his waist.

"What?"

"I'm just really happy you're here," I whispered. "I've missed you too, you know."

He laughed a little, in a way that sounded so much like Papa as he hugged me back.

"Oh," He whispered, leaning back a little as he reached for his pocket. "I keep forgetting to give you this."

He was holding out at small stack of papers - no, not papers. Photographs.

"My polaroids," I whispered.

They were crumpled and old. A few bent at the corners. Some torn right down the middle and mended back together with tape. But my twelve year-old, smiling face still shown on the surface, alongside Krel's small grin and Varvatos's rough grimace.

My heart pulled, fresh tears filling my eyes. "You kept these?"

There were tears in his eyes too. "I wanted to give them back to you."

I pulled him back into my arms, gripping him tighter than before, and barely even noticing as a few of the photos fluttered to the ground.

It was at least ten minutes before Eli and Steve came back. Steve took his place back on the floor, and Eli furiously buried himself in the blankets again, one hand still itching furiously at his scalp. He lay perfectly still the rest of the night, but I could tell he didn't sleep. I didn't either.

The next morning, we set off early. It was clear no one had gotten much rest, everyone at varying levels of groggy as we drove away from the motel. We stopped about twenty minutes later at an old diner. Steve was elected to risk getting us some food, him being the only one who was tall enough to pass as a twenty-something year-old.

With him gone, I leaned over to watch Eli open up a road map. His head was red and raw from how much he'd scratched it last night.

"Is that how you guys know where you're going?" I asked.

Eli didn't say anything, giving me a timid nod instead. His eyes were almost as swollen as his scalp. His hands were still trembling.

"How do you guys know where Trollmarket is?" I asked, making my voice a little more gentle this time. "It's got to be hidden, right?"

It took him a minute, but he managed a reply.

"Yeah . . . but Jim and Claire didn't get a chance to tell us where it was, so we have to go off the code like everyone else."

"Code?"

"We got it from a couple changelings down south," He said, his voice gaining a little volume. "Took about ten years off my life, but I guess it was worth the scare."

"Changelings?" Krel asked.

"PSFs that don't have a special place in hell reserved for them," He said. "They're kinda like double agents, I guess? They're still PSFs because of the draft, but they help kids like us out. There were a bunch of them at Caledonia, which is part of the reason we were able to pull off the break out in the first place. We even knew most of them. Like Strickler, the museum lady, Señor Uhl -"

"Señor Uhl?" I perked up. "He helped us once, too."

"Really?" Eli glanced back. "When?"

"A long time ago," Krel said. "What's the code?"

"Oh, right," Eli reached down, pulling up his own backpack and rummaging through it. He produced a bright purple notebook, pages full of numbers and letters and charts connecting them. It almost made me dizzy to look at. But Krel seemed fascinated.

"How long have you been working on this?"

"Working on what?" I asked.

"Past two weeks, give or take," Eli stated proudly. I smiled. It was nice to see him out of his shell. "The only clue we've gotten so far is 'EDO', which I've plugged into every algorithm known to man. I've tried alternate languages. Number codes. Even Greek alphabet. Nothing."

Steve threw the door open with a grunt. "Bon appetit," He sang, shoving four togo boxes at Eli. "The Palchuk has delivered. Whatcha doin' with that?"

Eli shrugged. "I don't know, I still can't figure this damn thing out."

"Wait a minute," Steve looked back at me with excited eyes. "Weren't you a world class code breaker?"

Krel and I locked eyes. "Uh . . . I wouldn't say world _class_ -"

"Yeah," Eli raised an eyebrow. "Isn't that why the League wanted you? So you could break all their codes for them?"

_Shit_.

I glanced at Krel again, but before we could say anything Eli shoved the notebook onto my lap, looking up at me with mock innocence. "Go ahead, miss code breaker," He said. "Crack it."

I literally couldn't even read half of this. I mean, I could read the Portuguese well enough from what Mama had taught me. But it's not like she had taught me _Greek_.

Guess it's time for some world class bullshit.

Everyone's eyes were on me. Krel's cringing with pity. Eli's narrowed in suspicion. And Steve's eager and hopeful. I think that hope hurt worst of all.

"Uh . . . okay, let's see," I flipped through the book, nodding to myself as if I actually understood any of it. "Alright, um . . . EDO . . ."

Taking the pen from Eli's hand, I wrote out the three letters. Okay, now I just had to remember all those puzzles Krel was obsessed with back on the base. How had he solved the acronym one? Something about . . . numbers?

"Oh!" I bounced a little. "What about like, what order of the alphabet they're in? Like 'E' is the fifth letter, and 'D' is fourth, and -"

"'O' is fifteen," Eli said. "We know."

"So five-four-fifteen," I said. "Those numbers could mean something . . ."

Eli lowered his brows. "Could they."

"Hey," Krel cut in. "You've been mulling over it for how long again? And what have you figure out?"

Eli settled into a glare.

"The buttsnack's gotta point," Steve said. "Just give her a minute to think about it."

I looked back down at the letters. Maybe if I stared at them hard enough, the answer would appear. I squinted my eyes.

Okay, maybe not.

I exhaled, brushing my hair behind my ear. Okay, let's just think about this logically. It had to be something simple, something kids in and out of camps could piece together. It had to be clever enough to throw off suspicion, but not _too_ clever, otherwise no one would ever get it.

C'mon, think about it. What do three numbers typically represent? What's something close to home that all kids would understand? A price, a time, maybe an area code -

"_Oh_!" I jumped again.

Eli glanced back. "Have another breakthrough?"

"What if it's an area code?" I asked. "Everyone knows what an area code is, right?"

"Already tried that," He snorted. "No area code is represented with a four digit number. It doesn't work."

"Five-four-_fifteen_ doesn't," I said. "But five-four-_zero_ does."

"Five-four-zero . . ." Steve was flabbergasted.

"That's right!" Krel chimed in. "Five-forty, that's the New Jersey area code! I remember it!"

"Check it, Pepperjack!" Steve stabbed a finger at Eli's map. Folding it in his hands, Eli flipped it over, scanning down a table of numbers.

"They're right." He grumbled.

I high-fived Krel. "Yeah!"

"That doesn't help us," Eli continued. "We already knew it was in Jersey."

"Still," I said. "I broke the code."

"Still," Eli hissed. "We're back at square one."

"Give her some credit, buttsnack," Steve said. "She did in ten minutes what you couldn't do in a week."

Eli continued his bellyaching, thumbing through the pages of his paranormal book.

"As much as it pains me to say it," Krel added. "Eli is kind of right."

"Kind of?"

"We're already going to Jersey," He continued. "And it's not like that's some tiny bit of land we can just explore. There has to be more to the riddle. Something specific, like an address."

_"Exactly."_

"Well maybe we have to be in New Jersey for it to make sense," I suggested. "Like maybe there's some kind of sign or something to help us put it together."

"Either way," Steve tapped Eli's book again. "She still cracked it before you did."

He glanced back at me, glowering. "You got lucky."

I smiled.

"Luck runs out."

"I don't know," I replied. "I'm known for how lucky I can be."

**(A/N): just a note, i'm well aware the area code for NJ is not 540 (it's actually 201) and i tried adapting it for the code, but it doesn't quite work and you'll see why in a few chapters.**


	17. 17

**The People Of Walmart**

That night, we didn't find a motel, but I could tell by the way Steve was driving that we were going somewhere.

"So what are we doing tonight?" Eli asked. "I don't think a motel is gonna be out here."

"There's a place I know near here," Steve replied. "Somewhere I've been before."

I leaned over the driver's seat. "You've lived here before?"

"Eh," He shifted in his seat a little. "Never actually _lived_ here - but I did use to visit every summer. I'm pretty sure I can still find my way around."

The sun had set completely over the horizon when we pulled in front of the abandoned Walmart. The parking lot was barren and empty, looking creepy and surreal in the dark. I could see emergency lights on inside, but no movement. Something didn't feel quite right about the place, then again, that might just be nerves from what happened last time Krel and I went into an abandoned store.

I glanced over at him, catching the same look.

"It looks like it popped out of a horror movie," Eli said.

"At least it'll be warm," Steve replied. "Besides, we need a serious refill on essentials."

So in we went, Krel and I giving each other uneasy looks as we followed Eli and Steve through a busted door. Stopping in the clothing section, Steve handed each of us a laundry basket.

"Just grab whatever we're gonna need," He shrugged.

Krel raised an eyebrow. "Nothing particular comes to mind?"

"You guys are smart," He replied. "Figure it out."

The majority of the store had been picked clean, but there was still a few salvageable items. Krel and I wandered along the isles, grabbing things like toothpaste, soap, even a package of water bottles.

I ran a finger through the dust collected on the plastic. ""Water doesn't expire, does it?"

When we crossed paths again, Eli had a ridiculously oversized sweater tugged over his head and Steve had a whole mountain of dried fruits in his basket.

"Oh, Aja," Steve pulled something from his basket, tossing it into mine. "Found these, thought you might, uh, want them . . . or something."

I set my basket down, seeing the pair of red converse he'd thrown in. I felt the smile grow on my face, lifting the shoes from the bin. "Lively," I said. "Thanks."

Steve beamed.

They weren't a perfect fit, but they were close enough. I guess Steve was right, I did need socks. With my new shoes secured to my feet, I picked up my white slip-ons and chucked them over my shoulder, not bothering to see where they landed.

It was all behind me now.

"Hey, Aja!" Krel called from several isles over. "Look what I found!"

I rounded the corner, finding him holding what looked like a square of red plastic.

"Is that a DS?" I asked.

"Yes," He said. "I mean, the circuit board is busted, but I think I could get it fixed."

"I think you could too," I replied, ruffling his hair and heading back to my basket.

"Oh, before you run off, I got something for you too."

I pivoted back around. "Yes?"

He reached into his bin and pulled out a purple box of tampons. He tossed it to me, giving me a knowing smile. "Just make sure you hide it this time."

I giggled.

We gathered back in a clearing of isles to go through everything not thirty minutes later.

"Did you guys grab any first aid stuff?" Steve asked. "Like a kit or something?"

"No," I paused to think. "But I saw one somewhere over there. I thought it was empty, but we can go back and check."

He gestured towards the isles. "Lead the way."

Krel gave me a glare as we walked away, clearly not happy about me leaving him alone with Eli. Or maybe it was because I was going to be alone with Steve. Or maybe both.

I glared back:_ Deal with it._

"So it was just back here, right?"

"Yes," I lead him through the isles, the emergency lights buzzing above us. "Somewhere around here."

We must've taken a wrong turn at some point. When we rounded one particular corner, it gave us a grand view of the back wall. More importantly, the symbol spray painted onto it. It was the Psi symbol, the one PSFs wore on their uniforms.

And a very clear message was written beneath it: GET OUT NOW

"It could be old," Steve finally said. "I mean, everything here is old."

"I don't have a good feeling about this place," I said.

"We'll be fine," He replied. "Eli and I have been to dozens of places like this, and almost all of them have weird graffiti. Besides," He winked. "You've got the Palchuk to watch your back."

I brushed a piece of hair behind my ear. "Let's just get back to the others."

We turned the corner again, wandering back through the isles to try and find Krel and Eli again. Turns out taking a wrong turn isn't exactly helpful when you're trying to go back either.

We were just one corner away from them when - it was like an invisible hand had scooped me right off the ground. My feet went up, my arms flailing out to catch myself, but I didn't fall. I just floated higher.

"Uh . . . Steve?" I cried.

"Aja?"

I craned my neck, watching him float off the ground just like I had.

"Steve!" Eli shouted from several isles over. I turned to see both Eli and Krel slowly lifting above the shelves. "I don't care how impressive this is! Cut it out!"

"It's not me!" Steve shouted back.

"What do you mean?" I continued kicking and flailing at the air. "What's happening?"

"Blues," Krel growled. "Show yourselves!"

_"You really think you're in the position to make demands?"_ A voice came over the intercom, buzzing in my ears like static.

The hand around me tightened, throwing me straight up and slamming my back into the ceiling. The air was punched right from my lungs, the grunts of all the boys telling me they'd just gotten the wind knocked out of them too.

My eyes scanned over the floor, but there was no one there. Where _were_ they?

Suddenly, in the quiet of the four of us crushed against the ceiling, the sound of a gun cocking rang through the air.

Panic snapped in my chest, but I barely had time to register it before the intercom began blaring again, switching on and off and on again. The TVs were suddenly blaring, a thousand different images flashing across them. Electronics combusted below us. Then everything became blindingly bright as every light on the ceiling turned on, glowing brighter and brighter before finally bursting and plunging us right back into darkness.

It took a solid ten seconds before the emergency lights came back on.

Then we dropped.

Whatever hand had been holding me dissolved, my stomach plummeting before the rest of me followed. I crossed my arms in front of myself, bracing for the impact. But at the last second, another invisible hand caught me two feet above the ground.

Turning me over in the air, Steve eased me gently into a sitting position on the tiles. "You okay?" He grunted, sitting up from where he'd landed on his stomach.

Krel sat up from whatever shelf Eli and him had knocked over. "Fine."

Eli popped up next him, his glasses upside down on his face. "Thanks for asking."

"Are _you_ okay?" I asked, watching him dust himself off.

"Oh yeah," He grimaced. "It takes a lot more than that to take down the Palchuk. Here, let me help you." And he held his hand out to me.

I stared at it, fighting the reflexive urge to reach up and grab it. Remember what happens, my mind said. Remember what happens when you touch people. But the way he was looking at me, his eyes so soft and warm under the crappy, emergency lights. I wanted to hold his hand. On a completely irrational level.

So I did.

I was reckless and stupid and reached up to grab his hand.

It was warm, calloused, and leathery. And yet, somehow soft. I looked up at him, waiting for something to change - something to happen, fear twisting in my gut. But nothing did. He just threw back his weight and heaved me to my feet, releasing my hand. I held it against me, trying to savor as much as I could of the sensation.

Nothing happened. It was like an adrenaline rush. That was the first time in I don't even know how long, I'd touched another person's skin, and nothing happened. Maybe there was hope for me after all.

"Um, Aja?" Eli called. "I think something's wrong with Krel."

"What?" I whipped around, darting towards them.

"I'm fine," Krel blurted, but his face was pinched in pain. He'd removed the glove on his right hand, his left holding his wrist.

I knelt beside him. "Let me see."

He opened his palm, revealing a raging bruise across his palm, the edges of the skin already swelling.

"Was that you?" Eli asked. "The light show?"

Krel didn't look up.

"Who the hell are you guys?"

All four of us turned towards the voice, seeing the group of boys. Boys that couldn't have been any older than me. They were all clad in black, one of them carrying a rifle over his shoulder.

"What's it matter who we are?" Eli snapped. "Do you dipshits always pull crap like this? Attacking people without even checking to see if they're armed - if they're just like you?"

The boy at the front, the leader I guess, shrugged his shoulders. "You guys could've been trolls."

"And it was your Yellow that did all of - _this_." The ginger kid gestured to the burnt ceiling. "The boy needs a leash."

"Watch your mouth," I spat back. "He wouldn't have had to do anything if you hadn't pulled a gun on us."

"You're the ones who came into our territory," One of the blonds said.

"We came here for supplies," Steve said. "And shelter from the rain. We don't want any trouble, alright buttsnacks?"

The leader snarled. "What did you just call me?"

"Nothing," I blurted. "He didn't call you anything -"

"Holy shit," The ginger cut me off, his eyes getting wide. "Dude, look at her forehead."

I stepped back, words dying in my throat.

"Oh my God," The leader muttered.

"She's a traitor!" The other blond threw a finger out towards me. "That's what it means, doesn't it? Just like that congressman!"

_"What?"_ I clamped a hand over the mark. It actually meant something? Why had I never thought of that before?

"How did _you_ get -"

They all started forward, crowding me. I stumbled several steps back, Steve and Eli moving to stand in front of me.

"We're just staying the night," Eli said. "We don't want trouble, we want sleep. So stay on your side of the store and we'll stay on ours - just for the next eight hours. Then we'll be out of your hair. Deal?"

The boys grumbled and glowered, whispering between each other. "We don't want a traitor in our territory."

"She's not a traitor," Krel spat.

The ginger glowered. "We also don't want your walking-taser of a Yellow here either."

A growl burned deep in my throat. But Eli beat me to speaking. "It's just for eight hours - you babies can't handle eight hours? Then we'll be gone for good."

The blonde boy looked him up and down. "So they tested on you? Opened you up and stuff? Does that mean you're retarded now?"

Eli was at a loss for words. But that's okay, since I had plenty.

I elbowed past him, stabbing a finger at the boys. "Say one more thing," I growled, "and I'll knock your teeth out."

"I'll hold them down," Krel offered.

"Oh, really?" The leader laughed. "A pathetic little Green like you? You really think you could stand your ground against us?"

For the first time in my life, I was actually tempted to scramble someone's brains. I quickly shook off the thought. These guys were just losers with no one else to take it out on. They weren't worth -

My feet were ripped right out from under me.

It happened so fast. One moment I was standing, the next my stomach was in my throat as the isles became a blur. I felt myself flip and turn in the air, the invisible hand dragging me until I fell back onto the tiles. Well, at least I would have if Steve hadn't caught me again.

For a solid three seconds, no one moved.

Then Krel was stomping forward, ripping off his left glove and charging the boys. They scattered back, the ginger ducking behind an isle. Krel stood there, not five feet from them, meeting the leader's glare.

"Keep your abilities to yourselves," He cracked electricity between his fingers as a warning. "Or I won't."

The leader stiffened. "Fine," He barked. "But stay on your side, freaks! And as soon as the sun comes up, you're outta here!"

"Trust me," Eli growled. "That's not gonna be a problem."

We headed back towards the camping section, trying to get as far away as possible from the group. Whoever they were, we wanted nothing to do with them.

There was a tent set up in the center of the floor, bolted down - probably for show. But it was as good a place to sleep as any. Taking what blankets and pillows we could, we stuffed it until it could almost count as a bed. I climbed inside, suddenly exhausted.

"Hey, you okay?" Krel asked, climbing in after me.

"You're asking me?" I said into the pillow. "You're the one whose hand is the color of a plum."

"And you're the one who was flipped like a pancake," He replied. "So nothing hurts?"

"This really is what it's like to be babied."

"I haven't seen you in four and a half years, Aja," He said. "Excuse me if I'm a little protective."

I shot him a glare over my shoulder. "I'm supposed to be the protective one."

"We both are," He pushed my head back down on the pillow. "Now get some sleep. You look like you need it."

"Someone has to keep watch."

"I think Eli's already thought of that," Krel nodded out the open flap. I followed his gaze to see Eli sitting on a fold-up chair outside of the tent, his notebook open on his lap. "I'll be up with him, though. Just in case he falls asleep and gets us all killed."

"What about your hand?"

"My hand?" He looked down at the bruise. "It'll be gone by morning. No big deal."

"You've gotten pretty good at it, huh?" I said. "Using your abilities."

He shrugged. "Not good enough." Then he shoved his hands back in the rubber gloves and climbed back out of the tent.

"Me neither," I said into the pillow. "Me neither."

Barely two minutes later, Steve climbed in through the entrance, tripping over the lining and landing right beside me.

"Oh, uh, sorry, that's - uh - that's my bad," His face flushed as he scooted back.

"It's okay," I giggled. "That was funny."

"If that's what makes you laugh, maybe I should trip more often."

More giggling, aimed into my pillow this time.

"You okay, Aja?" He asked.

"Why does everyone keep asking me that?"

"It's a thing that happens," He said, lying on his side to face me. "When Blues move you around too much, sometimes they can move the things, you know, on the inside."

I cringed. "Ooh."

"It's doesn't kill you or anything," He said. "It just hurts a lot. So you feel okay?"

"I'm fine," I replied, turning on my side to face him too. "You?"

"Naturally," He puffed out his chest.

"Thanks for the catch," I said. "Both of them."

His eyes went soft again. And something inside me went soft too. He reached over to brush a strand of hair over my shoulder, letting his fingers linger there. I wanted to touch him again. Irrationally. Impulsively. I had to pin my hands beneath me to hold them back.

"You're welcome," He said.

I watched his eyes raise to my scar, the warmth leaving them. His fingers moved away from my hair and towards the mark. A part of me didn't care if he touched it, anything for more contact. But the better part of me knew. And I flinch away.

He retracted his hand, me training my eyes on the ceiling so I wouldn't have to see his dejected look.

"Steve?" I turned fully onto my back. "Can I ask you something?"

"Uh, yeah, yeah, sure," He replied. "I guess."

"You've been out of Caledonia for a while, right?"

"Like, two weeks."

"Those boys recognized my scar," I looked back at him. "When you first saw me, did you recognize it too?"

He opened his mouth, then closed it again.

"You did, didn't you?"

He finally nodded. "I've seen it before."

"Like, on another person?"

Another nod. "It wasn't a congressman, it was these two changelings - you know what those are, right?"

"Eli explained it to us."

"Yeah, two of those guys, they were caught helping kids. The other PSFs . . . they called them traitors and - uh -" He cleared his throat. _"Marked_ them, I guess, before they died."

A sting went through my forehead. "The PSFs who marked me wanted to kill me too."

There was a beat of silence.

"What stopped them?"

I began playing with a strand of hair at the edge of my shoulder. "I got lucky."

Neither of us said anything for a moment, just letting the words sink in.

"Can I ask you something?" Steve finally said.

I nodded.

"How . . . why you?" He said. "Why would they mark someone like you?"

I gave a humorless laugh. "The better question would be why wouldn't they."

"What are you talking about?"

"Steve," I turned to look at him. "Do you remember my last name?"

His brows pinched in concentration, the dots finally connecting behind his eyes. "Wait," He said. "You guys are _those_ Tarrons?"

I continued rolling my hair through my fingers. "The PSFs at Thurmond . . . I was their favorite to torment. They said I got what I deserved because my parents were traitors - my whole family was." A tear fell down the side of my face. "And I don't even know why."

"I'm sorry," Steve whispered. "I wish I could tell you more."

"It's okay," I glanced at the tent door. "I think . . . I think Krel knows. He knows a lot of things, he just won't tell me them."

"He's probably just trying to protect you."

I tugged at the strand. "I don't need protection."

"Maybe not," Steve said. "But after what you've been through, can you really blame him?"

"What about what _he's_ been through?" I asked. "I was at Thurmond, but he . . ."

I had to pause, wiping the tears under my eyes with the heel of my hand.

"I know he's been through scary things too. But the fact that he won't tell me about them scares me most of all. It's like, even though we're together now . . . we're not. Does that make any sense?"

I looked over to see that Steve had tears in his eyes too. But it was more than that. It was a quiet ache hidden far from view, and I'd somehow brought it out.

"Yeah," He said. "It makes perfect sense."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to . . ." I sniffled, wrapped my arms around myself. "I don't know."

"Don't be sorry," Steve replied. "If there's anything I learned at Caledonia, it's to never apologize for being alive."

The words tugged on a memory. Mama - yes, that's right - she said those exact words to me once. Years ago, after the first time I'd ever cried at school. _Never apologize for being alive_, she'd said. _Your vulnerability is what makes you strong, Aja. It's beautiful._

Thurmond had forced me to bury memories like that - to bury any kind of vulnerability. But Steve had brought it back out. Just like that.

"That's good advice," I said.

He he gave me a gentle smile, reaching over to pull the blanket up over my shoulder. "You should get some rest."

My body felt so heavy all of the sudden, as if just reminded how tired I was. I exhaled, turning on my side as I curled up in the blankets. ". . . Night, Steve." I muttered.

"Night, Aja."

And for the first time in longer than I could remember, I fell asleep smiling.


	18. 18

**Surprise Surprise White Noise Sucks**

I woke up to giggling. Lots of it.

"There's no 'Q'," Krel's voice said. "You lose."

More giggling.

"You can just add something else," Eli's voice replied.

"I've added a belt, four piercings, and an extra arm," Krel said. "You _lose."_

Absolutely hysterical giggling.

I sat up, trying the blink the grogginess out of my brain. What was going on out there?

"Why don't we just do another game of charades?"

"Yeah, Eli," Krel replied. "Go ahead and try standing up again. Let's see how that goes."

"You say one more word about that, so help me God . . ." He was cut off by his own laughter.

I rubbed my hands against my face, shaking off the sleep and crawling towards the tent door. Upon opening the flap, I saw Krel and Eli sitting across from each other, Eli's notebook and a bag of candy spilled between them. Both of them were red in the face with laughter, somehow looking buzzed and exhausted at the same time.

"Oh hey, Aja," Krel turned to look at me. "You're awake. You're not gonna believe what we figured out."

I stared at him for a solid ten seconds before ducking back into the tent. Maybe I was dreaming. Why my subconscious decided to make up a world where Krel and Eli got along, I don't know. I scrubbed the heel of my hands against my eyes, rubbing all the sleep from them, and poked my head back out.

Nope, not dreaming.

Upon seeing me poke my head out a second time, the boys erupted into a fresh round of giggles, Eli rolling onto his back while gripping his stomach.

I blinked at them. "You didn't take any pills from the pharmacy, did you?"

They just laughed harder.

Rustling sounded behind me, Steve's body heat washing over my back as he peered over my shoulder. "Are they . . . not fighting? Is this a dream?"

"I'm about seventy percent sure it's not," I replied.

"No, no, no," Krel took several deep breaths to try and calm himself down. "We actually . . . were productive . . ." I started giggling too, just from watching them.

"I don't think I've seen Eli laugh this hard since middle school," Steve commented.

"What's got you guys so giggly?"

Eli sat up. "Too much candy, too little sleep."

I laughed harder.

"But no," Krel pushed himself to his feet. "We actually figured -" He wheezed. "We figured it out."

I climbed out of the tent, pulling Steve with me. "Figured what out?"

Eli scooted back several paces, grabbing a makeshift radio that had been thrown to the side. Krel walked over, heaving Eli to his feet and hobbling the both of them back over to the tent.

"There something wrong with your feet, Eli?"

"Happens when he gets tired," Steve yawned, helping Krel ease Eli into the fold up chair. "Side effect."

Oh.

"So what did you guys figure out?" I asked.

"As fun as it is to admit," Eli sneered. "You were right about the 'O' in EDO not being a number. It's a zero."

"But five-forty isn't just an area code," Krel laid the radio in my hands, turning a few of the knobs. "It's a radio station."

"See, there are frequencies kids can hear that adults can't," Eli said. "That's how White Noise works. We think Jim's trying to use the same system."

The knobs finally clicked into place, Krel flipped a switch and a burst of static came from the speakers. At first that's all it was, wave after wave of buzzing. But then, a young girl's voice came through:

_If you can hear this, you're one of us. If you're one of us, you can find us._

_Heartstone, New Jersey. Look for the signs._

I almost couldn't believe it. A fresh laugh bubbled up from my throat, my eyes blowing wide.

"You did it!" I exclaimed. "Way to go, little brother!"

"How did you guys figure it out?" Steve asked.

"I went to go look for a radio -"

"'Cause he can't handle ten minutes of silence," Eli said.

"To keep us _awake_," Krel shot him a glare. "And when we saw the numbers on the dial, we decided to try ours."

"So we know where to go now, right?" I handed the radio back to Krel. "Somewhere called Heartstone?"

"Well, that's the other thing," Eli said. "We're not sure what 'Heartstone' is supposed to refer to. I've been pouring over New Jersey maps for the past two weeks and I guarantee you, it's not a city there."

"But it does say something about signs," Krel added. "So maybe it's like what you said. Maybe there's some kind of visual to go along with it, we just have to get to Jersey to figure it out."

"Then what are we waiting for, buttsnacks?" Steve threw up his hands. "Grab your baskets and let's get outta here!"

We didn't see the group of Blues on our way out, and better for it. Krel and Eli passed out in the back seats within the first hour of driving, leaving me and Steve to fill the time with stories and radio sing-alongs. The Palchuk could not carry a tune to save his life, but I loved hearing him anyway.

"You and your brother sure love music, huh?" Steve asked, sometime around noon.

"Doesn't everyone?"

"Can't argue with that."

"Is it alright if I ask you something?"

Steve turned the radio down a little. "Sure."

"You said you were with the Trollhunters, but then you got separated," I said. "How did that happen?"

Steve sighed, adjusting his hands on the wheel. "The break out, it got . . . messy. Eli and I were waiting on the other side of the fence for Jim to bring kids through, we got about half the camp out before they stopped coming. We knew something was wrong, but there wasn't a lot we could do. Eventually we just told the kids to run and we went back in to look for Jim. We . . . barely got out again."

"I'm sorry," I whispered. "That sounds awful."

"Eh, it wasn't anything the Creepslayerz couldn't handle," He shot me a smile. "And besides, we made it out in the end."

"And Jim did too, right?"

"Yeah," Steve nodded. "Jim and Domzalski we're sure of. Claire, not so much."

It took me a moment to picture her face. I barely remembered her, just little snippets of seeing her in the drama room and on the back of Jim's bike after school. Didn't she have a streak of purple in her hair? Or was it blue?

"What happened to Claire?"

"All of us got roughed up," Steve said. "But she took a pretty hard hit. PSFs had cornered them in this room, and Claire ended up having to knock through a wall so we could get out. It didn't leave her in the best condition."

I blinked at him. "Knock through a wall?"

"She's a Blue," He said. Like that was supposed to explain everything.

"So now Blues can cause explosions?"

"No," He chuckled. "What I mean is, as a Blue, she was able to move things with her brain, just like me."

"Yes, I know."

"Well, when you move something, you have to think of it as a whole object before you do, even if it isn't one," He said. "Kinda like when you move a person, you have to think of them as a one piece or the thing where you mix up their insides happens."

I crinkled my nose. "Don't remind me."

"Claire thought of the wall was one piece, one object," Steve risked a glance at me. "When she did that, she was able to move it as one object."

My eyebrows went straight into my hairline. "Is that - is that even _possible?"_

"It is now," Steve chuckled. "Let me tell you, it was flippin' surreal to watch. Like something out of a video game."

"That's . . ." I didn't even have words. "Is she even _okay?"_

Steve winced. "We're not sure, like I said. I just remember seeing her fall - and then Jim telling us to run. We saw them one more time after we got through the fence, but Claire wasn't with them."

"I hope she's okay," I leaned back in my seat. "After doing that for her friends, I really hope she made it."

"Me too," Steve said, his eyes down. "Me too."

We drove in silence for a moment, my head against the window as I watched the endless fields of forest pass us. As soon as we stopped I was climbing a tree. I hadn't climbed a damn tree in too long. I was practically itching to do it.

"Is it my turn to ask you a question now?" Steve asked, giving me a dopey grin.

I giggled, putting my feet up on the dash. "I suppose it is."

"So," He tilted his head back and forth. "Why are you and Krel going to Jersey? I mean, if you weren't heading to Trollmarket, why go there specifically?"

"We're . . ." I hesitated. "Looking for our parents. Our best lead is Jersey."

"You guys," His brows pinched together. "You're looking for your parents?"

"Aren't you?"

He exhaled, slowly. "It's . . . complicated, I guess."

"What does that mean?"

"I thought it was my turn to ask the question."

"Yes," I said. "And I answered it. Now it's my turn."

He ran a hand through his hair. "I guess . . . I wouldn't even know where to start looking."

"Krel and I could help you."

"I'm not sure that's the best idea," He grimaced. "That's how a lot of kids got caught after the collections stopped. Parents would hide them places but still try to communicate. Sometimes it was just 'cause of dumb things like a Facebook post. PSFs were pretty, uh, _tenacious_, as Eli says, about it." Steve glanced back at Eli's sleeping form. "He actually has a pretty good system with his parents."

"What's that?"

"A website he made," Steve said. "For, like, nerd stuff."

"Nerd stuff?"

"Book reports," He waved a hand. "But he encodes messages in them whenever he posts, and then his parents can post a response back. It's kind of like texting with essays, but it throws PSFs off cause it's so boring."

"Clever," I grinned. "Lively."

"Yeah," He said. "That's one of the things he wants to do at Trollmarket. Contact his parents and see if he can find a way home."

"So he wants to go home," I rephrased. "But you don't?"

Steve didn't answer for a while, just squinting into the road.

"I don't really know where home is anymore."

I opened my mouth, only to shut it again, something in me deflating.

"I mean, it used to be Arcadia," Steve continued. "But, after everything that happened, it was like that place burst at the seams. It's not the same."

I looked down at my hands. "I know what you mean." Nothing is the same after IAAN.

"Right now, the safest place for us to be is Trollmarket," Steve spread his hands on the wheel. "I'll figure out the rest later."

I leaned back against the window, suddenly realizing how similarly I felt about my parents. I hadn't thought about what to do after I found them, or even _when_ I found them. I just wanted to find them - I'd figure out the rest later.

Even if they didn't know me.

"So it's my turn now?" Steve asked.

I blinked out of my thoughts. "Yep."

"How'd you learn to drive?" He risked another glance at me. "Like, I'm pretty sure Thurmond doesn't have driver's ed. Of course, I could be wrong . . ."

I giggled, latching onto the humor so I didn't have to feel the pain. "My - uh - my grandpa taught me, before I got into Thurmond."

"Your grandpa?" His brows drew together. "You mean that really cranky guy that followed you guys everywhere?"

My smile turned sad. "That's the one."

"Wait a minute," Steve held out a hand. "Before you got into Thurmond? How old were you?"

I shrugged. "Twelve."

Steve sputtered a laugh. "Did your feet even reach the petals?"

"Yes," I folded my arms. "As a matter of fact, they did."

We drove for a few days after that, stopping when we could at motels. It rained almost every night, and stayed pretty cloudy most of the day. I heard on the radio that it was some of the most rain West Virginia had ever seen.

It was strange to be in the same state still, after driving for so long. We spent the long hours listening to the radio and playing ridiculous puzzle games Eli and Krel would come up with - even though most of the time they just ended up playing them with each other since they were the only ones who could keep up with it. Steve and I were pretty happy with our question game anyway.

It was at the end of that week when we first ran into trouble.

Steve had noticed the car that was following us before I did. I'd given him a nervous glance, but he'd just shaken his head, not wanting to alert Eli just yet. I felt similarly about Krel. So we kept quiet about it, Steve making three, gradually paced u-turns. The white truck was still following us.

"Eli," Steve took a breath, his knuckles white against the wheel. "Don't freak out, but I think someone's following us."

'Don't freak out'. Like that phrase has ever prevented someone from freaking out.

"What?" Eli whipped around, his face white as a sheet. "Did you take three u-turns?"

"Yeah . . ."

"Get off the road!" Eli threw himself behind the driver's seat. "Turn that way! We can get up into denser forest area where it's safer and - what are you doing? Not that way!"

"Eli, what did I just say about freaking out?"

"Do you want to get caught or not!"

"Both of you," I said. "Calm down. This isn't the time to panic."

Suddenly the car lurched forward, the crunching sound of metal following. My seat belt locked against my chest, throwing me back in my seat. Eli, on the other hand, was thrown directly to the floor.

Krel craned his neck back. "Did they just rear end us?"

Eli popped up from the ground. "Is it time to panic now, Aja?"

Ignoring his glare, I looked up at Steve, seeing how tense he was. I expected him to say something but nothing came out of his mouth. He was scared. We all were.

The car jolted again, my chest bruising against the seat belt.

"He's gonna take off our bumper -"

"Steve!" Eli shrieked. "Do something!"

"Like what?" Steve threw up his hands. "You want me to rip up another tree?"

"The road's too wide for that!"

"Turn there," I pointed towards the exit. "It might lead us to a smaller road."

Steve swerved the car in the direction, knocking me right into the window, but the white truck was suddenly screeching in front of us before we could make the turn. Steve slammed on the breaks, the car spinning to avoid collision.

I could feel that the car had come to a stop but the world was somehow still spinning. I blinked, shaking my head to clear it. That's when the sound of a car door opening rang through the air.

There were two men getting out the driver's seat - no, one. No, two. I squeezed my eyes shut. Stop seeing double, dammit.

There was a glint of black as he raised whatever was in his hand. He shouted something but I couldn't hear it. Apparently Eli could and screamed something back, making my ears ring.

Finally, the megaphone he was holding came into focus. A black megaphone.

Oh no.

"Cover your ears!" I screamed.

Then the world exploded with pain.

It wasn't as loud as when they'd play it over the speakers at Thurmond. But that didn't make it any more bearable. I buried my face in my lap, both hands crammed over my ears to block it out. But of course, there was no 'blocking out' White Noise.

Steve wilted out of the driver's seat, dropping to the ground as he writhed. Eli cried out, desperately trying to bury his face in the seats. I couldn't see Krel, but I could hear him screaming.

Footsteps, my mind said. He's coming. He's coming.

_Now or never, Aja._

I tore at my seatbelt, only to find it jammed into place. I fought through the pain like it was a rushing river, the second I thought I'd reached the surface, I was ripped back down. But that didn't matter. What mattered was survival.

Just like Varvatos said.

Digging my fingers into the buckle, I tore apart the plastic. I felt the flesh of my fingers tear with it, but it barely compared to what was going through my head. Free of the belt, I threw myself into the driver's seat and latched my bloody hands onto the wheel. There was blood everywhere. My nose. My mouth. My ears.

The man was at the window.

It was like trying to kick through tar when I crushed my foot against the gas, but the van flew forward anyway. My back slammed against my seat, nausea flooding my system. I forced my breathing to even to keep from vomiting. I could lose everything in my stomach later. I could do anything I wanted once we were safe.

Slowly, the knives stabbing into my brain pulled away, the sound fading as we flew down the road. But the pain still lingered, as it always did. I swerved on the first turn I saw, not caring how it made my insides curdle. More turns, swerving back and forth until I was sure the white truck had disappeared far behind us. But I still didn't stop. I couldn't stop.

The inside of my head was becoming static, everything flying and untethered, knocking around inside me until I thought I might cave in. The only thought I could hang on to was on an endless loop:

_We have to get away. We have to get away. We have to get away._

It wasn't until dark that the boys started waking up.

Krel was first, holding his head and moaning as he tried to stir.

Eli was next, not even a minute later, peeling himself up from the seats with a grunt. "What the hell . . ." He panted. "Was _that."_

I glanced at him in the rear view mirror. "I thought you said you knew what White Noise was."

"White Noise . . .?" Steve mumbled, still crumpled on the floor in a heap. _"Ow . . ."_

"I do," Eli said, visibly trying not to vomit. "I've just never . . . Oh my God . . ."

"They played it for us - ugh," Krel clutched his stomach. "They played it for us once during training. But, God, it was nothing like _that."_

My brows pinched together. "They never played White Noise at Caledonia? _Never?"_

What kind of camp were these kids at? Candy Land?

Eli didn't answer, but by the sound of his gagging, he was probably still trying to keep everything in his stomach down. I was too.

Steve grabbed at the arm rest for the passenger seat and heaved himself up, gasping and grunting the whole way. All our faces were smeared with blood. Noses, mouths, and ears leaking everywhere.

"Wait . . ." Steve reached up to grab his skull. "Wait . . . wait . . ."

"What?"

"How are you driving, Aja?" Krel asked. "How are you . . . how did we get . . ."

"Does it not . . ." Steve grimaced as he turned towards me. "Does it not hurt . . . for you?"

"Oh, it hurts," I assured him.

"Then how are you fine?" Eli asked.

"Your hands," Steve said. He reached over to touch them, and I instinctively retracted, pulling the wheel along with me. The van swerved for the millionth time, finally grinding to a stop. Everything went still. Quiet.

And that was as long as I could hold it.

Throwing open the door, I tumbled out into the road, dropping to my knees and vomiting across the asphalt. My shoulders shuddered, involuntary tears streaming while my stomach retched. I could barely even breathe.

"I'll go out on a limb here and say that she's not fine," I heard Krel say behind me.

"Aja?"

"I'm okay," I panted. "I - I'm okay."

I knew it was Krel's hand on my arm when he pulled me up, holding a cap-ful of water in front of my mouth. "Go slow," He said.

And despite it all, I laughed.

After a few sips to wash the bile from my mouth, the two of us stumbled back into the van and passed the bottle to Eli and Steve.

"Your hands," Steve said again. "What happened to your hands?"

I looked down, noticing the horrible throb going through them for the first time. My fingers had practically been skinned - at least the tips. Claw marks of the plastic raked down to my palms, blood smeared down to my wrists and staining the wheel.

My eyes fell to the busted and bloodied buckle beside Steve's leg. ". . . My seat belt jammed."

I could feel all of their eyes on me - like I was a wounded animal again. It made me want to curl up and disappear.

"I'm . . ." Eli swallowed. "I'm gonna go out on a limb and say they play lots of White Noise at Thurmond."

I leaned back against the headrest, my eyes falling closed. "They do."


	19. 19

**No Touchy Please**

We stayed there at the side of the road for a few hours, sleeping in shifts to let everything calm down as much as possible. Steve offered to take the first shift and I was asleep before he was done talking. It was close to two in the morning when I could finally get up again.

Everyone was awake at that point, just eager to get going. So we did, and by the end of the next day, Steve's hands were bright pink from the blood on the steering wheel.

But at least the rain had finally let up.

We had parked in a small clearing of trees, pulling off the road to hide beneath the canopy of leaves. The sun was barely set across the horizon when I stepped out of the car, gazing up at the first cloudless sky I'd seen in a week. I knew what that meant.

Stars.

"Where are you going?" Krel called.

"I'll stay close!"

Jogging to the largest oak a little ways from the clearing, I put my hands on the bark to pull myself up. A sharp ache shot through them, forcing me to release with a cry. Eli had cleaned and wrapped my hands this morning, leaving me with gloves made of gauze. Guess that probably wasn't the greatest thing to have when you climb trees.

"Need some help?"

I turned to see Steve approaching, nodding towards my hands.

"Thanks," I replied.

He lowered himself onto one knee, knitting his fingers together as a foothold. With my sneaker situated against his palms, I rocketed myself up into the branches, catching myself with my wrists.

"You good?"

"Yep!"

Kicking my legs against the branch, I heaved myself up several more, using my elbows and forearms as grips. It actually wasn't too hard.

The sound of a shoes sliding on bark made me turn, watching Steve tumble back to the dirt. I giggled, swerving back down, anchoring my elbow against a low branch, and holding my hand out to him.

I didn't even realize what I was doing . . . until I did. But I didn't stop. Fingers, arms, and shoulders had brushed me over the past few days. Nothing happened then. And when I grabbed his hand in Walmart - nothing happened then either.

Dangerous, my mind said. This is dangerous.

And it was. But I didn't care.

"You're not like other girls," Steve said. "Are you?"

His hand reached past mine, grabbing my wrist probably to avoid causing me anymore pain. I still felt the heel of his calloused hand brush the skin where my sleeve ended. I still felt the warmth of his wrist through the gauze. It made me giggle again.

"You have no idea."

He followed me up through the tree, his hand still clamped around my wrist for stability - and I didn't mind it one bit. The branch I settled on was thick, but still high enough that I could see the sky over the canopy. I scooted along it, pulling Steve with me.

And then -

Then I looked up and -

The sight knocked the wind right out of me.

Stars. Glittering and glowing across the sky. So delicate. So constant, the constellations already jumping out at me - like no time had passed since I'd last seen them. Blues and purples brushed back and forth behind the lights, completely mesmerizing me.

I didn't realize I was crying until Steve reached over to brush a tear away. I beat him to it before I could stop myself. It was probably better that way.

"Sorry," I said. "It's been . . . so long since I've seen the stars."

"I kinda guessed," He replied.

I exhaled, something inside me rising. Like a weight had been pulled right out of me and I could soar up to the sky now. I could be free now.

"You know," I said. "My Mama and Papa used to take Krel and I out to see the stars. We used to do it all the time. Krel and Papa would go on and on over numbers and space missions, while Mama would tell me the stories behind the constellations. It always seemed so . . . _adventurous."_

"Learning about stars?"

I nodded. "The universe, I forget how vast it is sometimes."

More tears came, this time from an ache in my chest. I wanted to run and get Krel. I wanted to run and get Mama and Papa. Mary. Shannon. Davaros. All of them deserved to see the stars.

Maybe Davaros was a star now.

I wiped at my eyes before Steve could again. It took a few deep breaths, but I managed to pull myself back together. "What can I say?" I shrugged. "The stars are lively."

But when I turned back at him, he was giving me the wounded look again. Like I was nothing more than a hurt kitten he'd found in the road. I couldn't even look back, my eyes going down.

"Please don't look at me like that," I whispered.

Steve blinked. "Like what?"

"Like I am wounded," I said. "Like I am hurt."

He touched the padded gauze on my hand. "You are hurt."

"You know what I meant."

He sighed, sitting back on the branch. "Sorry, I guess it's just . . . reflex."

"Reflex?"

"You're from Thurmond," He replied. "Back at Caledonia, they used to tell horror stories about that place to scare kids into behaving."

My shoulders sunk lower. Of course they did.

"I mean, they were just horror stories," He gave a nervous laugh. "Right?"

I didn't answer. Steve deflated.

"You're doing it again."

"Argh!" He threw his hands up. "I don't mean to, I just - ugh, how do I even say this? What if you _are_ wounded?"

"Yes," I nodded. "But I'm a wounded _human_. Not a kitten."

"No, that's not what I meant," He dragged his hands down his face. "I'm trying to say, you just, you get these looks on your face, like you're holding the whole world on your shoulders, and Jim used to look like that and sometimes Eli looks like that and -"

"Where are you going with this?"

He groaned. "I don't know . . . I just -" He sighed again, looking down towards the ground.

"All of my friends - kids I've known for forever, they've been . . . broken. In a way that you can't just fix, you know? But I want to fix it. And that's weird to admit out loud, and would probably ruin my whole reputation if the wrong person found out . . ." He gave me a pointed look, earning a small giggle. "But I - I don't want you guys to hurt. And at the same time, there's nothing I can do! So everytime it shows up on your face, it's just a reminder that I . . . I can't fix it."

I looked back up at the stars, fingering my collar but remaining silent. He was right, he couldn't help me. No one could.

"Hey," Steve's easy smile appeared back on his face. "You see that star? That's the dog star."

I pushed the finger he was pointing a few stars to the left.

"Heh, right," He really did have a cute nervous laugh. "And that one? That's the elephant star. And that one's the badger star. And the platypus star -"

My giggling cut him off. "You're making that up."

"No, I swear!" He spread his hands innocently, but he laughed with me. It felt good to laugh with the stars. To laugh with Steve.

Somewhere in between the fading laughter and the still silence, something in the air changed. His eyes didn't move from mine, and mine didn't move from his. They looked rich and golden in the starlight. His skin looked soft, and I could feel his warmth radiating off of him.

I wanted to get closer. I realized it like a freight train had hit me. I wanted to be impossibly, carelessly close to him.

_Dangerous_, my mind said.

I didn't listen.

He was the first one to scoot forward, turning so that his front was facing me. I mirrored his actions, feeling myself lean forward like a magnet was pulling me. His hand reached over, brushing a strand of hair out of my face and behind my shoulders. He was leaning forward too.

"You're glowing," He whispered.

My eyes fell closed. "I am?"

His lips weren't soft. They were chapped, calloused, and rough like his hands. But that only made me want more. It was hardly a kiss. Just pressure from his mouth to mine. Pressure that was warm and sweet. That swept the entire world away.

Then pain exploded behind my eyes and all the warmth faded into nothing. Suddenly a rushing river was ripping me down, burying me in cold, wet flashes of memories. I struggled against it, panic burning like a live wire in my chest.

Not now. _Please_, not now.

I felt the scratchy fabric of a camp uniform. I smelled fresh mountain air. I watched my fist land into another boy's face, several cheers sounding behind me. I saw Eli look up at me, his head completely bald and his scars fresh enough to pucker. He was crying.

"Would it kill you to be nice for ten minutes?"

I saw legs dangling over the edge of a bunk. I felt the bitterness of the cold. The red of the blood as it splattered up the walls of Caledonia. The bodies they had no choice but to leave behind.

_It got . . . messy._

I ripped back, throwing myself up from the river. The bark scraped against my back, an ache shooting through my hands as I caught myself. But Steve wasn't so quick.

He toppled right off the branch, smacking limply into the one below us before plummeting to the ground. He landed on his back, face completely blank, waiting for a command.

A sheet of ice cold horror washed over me. What had I done?

_"Steve!"_

I leapt off the branch, winding my way down and landing in a crouch beside him.

"Steve, oh my God, can you hear me?"

I reached out to pull his head into my lap, but my hand froze before it could touch him. No, I told myself. No, you can't do this anymore. You can't do this anymore.

". . . Aja?" He blinked a few times, his dilated pupils going back to normal.

A breath rasped out of my lungs. One I didn't even know I was holding. Relief was warm and numbing as it settled over me. He hadn't forgotten me. I hadn't ripped that part of him away.

"What happened?" He groaned, sitting up. "I feel like I've been hit by a linebacker."

"You . . ." What was I supposed to say? "Fell out of the tree."

"What?" He looked up. "But I've got great balance. I was known for this charging attack in - oh my God, I completely forgot to ask if _you_ were okay."

I swallowed. My face was deathly pale, I could feel it. My hands were trembling and I couldn't get them to stop. The tears in my eyes were stinging, but I knew I could blink them away.

"Aja, what's wrong?" He sat up. "Are you hurt?"

I forced my head to shake. "I'm fine."

"You don't look -" He reached for me but I shot to my feet, stepping around him.

"I'm fine," I repeated, and made a beeline straight for the car.

Krel and Eli was sitting on the grass, arguing about some ancient constellation when I passed them. Both of them went quiet as I did, as if sensing my mood. I didn't say a word to them. I didn't even look at them. I just threw open the side of the van and roared the door shut again.

I scrunched myself behind the passenger seat, my knees to my chest and my back against the fabric. It was as far away as I could get from everyone else.

The tears didn't come in sobs. They came slowly. Quietly. My chest rising and falling with every gasp and hiccup. My lips were trembling now. Every part of me was. Why did I always have to do this? Why couldn't I ever hold it together? Just _once?_

I jumped when the driver's door opened, but relaxed as soon as I saw Krel's face. "Um," He leaned into the car. "So Steve has sent me to check on you. Something about falling out of a tree?"

I looked away. "I'm fine."

He pulled the door closed, kneeling on the seats. "Can you at least tell me what you two were doing in a tree?"

"Nothing."

"Really."

I glared at him over my shoulder.

"Aja," He leaned toward me. "Did he hurt you?"

"No, no!" I waved my hands. "God, no. Steve would never hurt me. I - " I bit my lip. "I was the one who hurt him."

"Oh."

I stared forward, looking anywhere but Krel's eyes. "You were right," I said. "We can't stay with them."

"Aja -"

"We will leave in the morning. We should be in New Jersey by then."

I shoved down the horrible ache in my chest. This is what had to be done. I couldn't keep hurting people. Not like this. So isolation it is, no matter how painful. I could live like an island.

_People don't live like islands_, Papa's voice suddenly said to me - when I overheard him talking to Mama about a batallion he'd attacked. _Each of those people had families, loved ones, and friends_, He'd said. _People don't live like islands._

But maybe I could. After all, what choice did I have?

"If that's what you want," Krel finally said.

"It is," I whispered.

I heard him swallow, then the door opening. "I will tell them we're leaving."

My knees felt like jelly, but I forced them to support me anyway. "I'll come with you."

He looked at me with surprise. Then he smiled. And I smiled back.

We weren't alone anymore. No matter what happens, I'd always have my little brother. And he would always have me.

We'd taken two steps out of the car before Krel was grabbed.

I didn't see the perpetrator, just their hands as they ripped Krel around to the front of the van. I screamed, reaching for him. But then someone grabbed me. I turned, trying to make out a face, but all I saw was the butt of a gun flying towards me.

And then the pain.

**(A/N): *evil maniacal laughter***


	20. 20

**Now Would Be A Great Time To Be Anybody But Me**

The darkness covered me like a wet cloth.

The more I tried to move, the more I couldn't breathe.

There was shouting, but it sounded like thunder. No words, just noise and pain. I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting nausea and the weight my body had suddenly become. What just happened? Why was everything so dark?

My eyes peeled open, spots dancing in my vision before the view of the stars finally came through - and then a woman's face. Her thin, blonde brows were pulled together in concentration, as if trying to remember where she'd seen me before.

I rolled my head against the asphalt, looking for Krel. For anyone. I saw Steve and Eli first, sitting side by side against a tree with their hands and ankles cuffed. Krel was a few paces to their left, his hands held up as he lowered himself onto his knees. There was a man standing before them, keeping a large rifle pointed at all three boys.

"Who knew?" A woman's voice was going in and out of focus. But it wasn't the woman leaning over me. It was someone else. "We thought we might find a few stragglers, maybe even some runaways. But friends of the Trollhunters? You two will certainly fetch a pretty penny."

That voice . . .

Oh no.

"Speaking of pretty pennies," The woman above me said, making my ears pop. "Come look what I found."

_Move!_ My mind screamed at me. _Get up! Run!_

But the second I tried, the darkness threatened to pull me back under.

A second woman's face appeared above me. Dark skin. Ginger hair. Red glasses.

"No . . ." I pleaded, writhing away from her. "Not you . . ."

"Oh, yes me," Kubritz laughed, gripping a fist-ful of my hair and yanking me to my feet. By some miracle they stayed under me. "I had a feeling I'd be seeing you again, _mutt."_

All three boys were staring at me. Whether with horror or shock I don't know.

"Why don't you introduce me to your new friends?" She snickered in my ear. "It's the least you can do after _ruining_ all our fun."

"You . . ." Steve was winded with terror. "You know her?"

"Oh, of course," Kubritz laughed, yanking my hair and forcing my head back. "Who do you think gave her that pretty little beauty mark?"

I gritted my teeth, forcing my eyes to look anywhere but the boys. I had to be strong. I had to take whatever she could throw. Just like I have so many times before.

"You're the Colonel," Krel sounded like he was ready to spit fire.

"Newly promoted," She gave a proud lift of her shoulder, rattling me back and forth. "Thanks to how well I took care of this filthy mutt. Birdie, hold her!" With one move, I was thrown into the woman, her hands latching onto me before I could even fall.

Krel's eyes were seething. "Don't _call_ her a -"

"Shut up!" The man barely gave a warning before slamming the butt of his gun into Krel's shoulder, forcing him flat on the asphalt with a small cry.

"Stop!" I threw myself forward, the woman's long nails digging into my arms like claws. "Stop - I - I'm the one you want. You can have me. I'll go easily, I won't give you trouble. Just let them go."

"Aja, _no!"_ Krel screamed, but the man raised his gun again and he flinched away, falling silent.

Kubritz sauntered towards me, taking her time with each step. She knew I had no where to run. Raising a gloved hand, she brushed the back of her knuckles against my cheek, pushing them under my jaw and forcing me to lift my chin.

"Tempting, I'll admit."

The back of her hand hit me so hard and so fast I saw spots, a sickening _thwap_ ringing through the air. A burst of pain went through my neck as my head was thrown to the side. I could already feel my cheek bone beginning to bruise.

She crouched down to get eye-level with me. "But also adorable that you think you're in a position to bargain."

"What are you even doing here?" I managed to say. "Don't you already have a job?"

She smiled proudly, the other man and woman cackling with her. "I'm on vacation."

I felt my eyes narrow to the point of pain. I'd heard PSFs talking about doing this before. Working nine to five during the week and then going hunting on the weekends just to bring in the extra cash.

Or for the fun of it.

I was suddenly horribly aware of the panic button under my shirt.

"You know what else, _Tarron?"_ She made certain to spit my last name like a curse. "As much as I'd like to say your dog cage is waiting for you back home, I've been thinking."

Hot shame flushed over me as Steve and Eli's heads snapped in my direction. Krel's just lowered like a weight had been put on his shoulders. Kubritz cackled at their reaction, burning and humiliated tears gathering in my eyes as I ducked my head.

"What?" She snickered at them. "Where else do you keep a mutt?"

I didn't see the pallid looks on their faces, but I knew they were there. The looks of horror in their eyes boring into my like someone had poured ice water down my back.

God, what I would've given to crawl under the pavement and disappear.

"But back to the point, namely - why, on God's green earth," She reached for a mound on her belt, "would the League waste time on a Green as dumb as you?"

I felt Krel's eyes on me as she spoke, that he wanted me to look back. But I couldn't. I couldn't look at any of them.

"So I came up with a theory or two," Kubritz pulled the item into view, a black megaphone in hand. "Wanna help me experiment?"

The boys all visibly tensed at the sight of the megaphone, and so did I. But something sick was swirling around in my stomach. Something that told me this wasn't going to be like normal White Noise.

She reached for a small dial on the side of the megaphone, switching it up to the first notch. A small, green light came on. Then the megaphone cracked to life.

I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for the pain. But it never came. The sound that came out of the megaphone was just . . . buzzing. A harmless static. But the moment it started, Eli threw his head forward, burying it in his knees as he screamed.

No one else reacted.

"Hmm," Kubritz switched the phone back off. "Not Green."

Oh _no_.

Switching the dial again, the light went from green to blue. When sound came out of it, it was the same harmless static. Maybe slightly higher pitched, but still just static. Steve cried out over top of it, gritting his teeth as he threw his head back against the tree, like he could knock the pain out of him.

"Not Blue," Kubritz switched the dial again. The light became yellow.

_Oh, please no_.

Krel had about a second and a half to brace for the sound before it tore his skull apart. His hands clamped down over his ears, his head going between his knees and into the asphalt. I should've fallen with him. I should've thrown my hands over my ears and pretended to be a Yellow.

But I was frozen.

"Not Yellow."

Everyone's eyes were on me. They would all know. There was nothing I could do.

_Panic button. Panic button. Panic button._

The light switched to orange.

The sound didn't reach my ears. It _seared_ them. It was worse than any White Noise I'd heard before. Like it was designed especially for me. And it was.

I held myself together for as long as I could. Barely three seconds had gone by before I couldn't stand it any longer. Then I couldn't stand at all. My face crumpled as I dropped to my knees, my sore fingers raking over my ears. The 'Birdie' woman above me said something, but I could barely make it out. A bout of pain burst across my skull and the megaphone cracked against my head. And I collapsed onto the road.

"Stop it!" Krel's voice was the first thing I heard after it stopped. "Stop it! Just leave her alone!"

When I finally pried myself up from the ground, the first thing I saw were Steve's eyes. They were looking at me in a way they never had before.

With fear.

"Oh my God . . ." He choked.

I lowered myself back to the asphalt. Maybe if I got low enough, I wouldn't have to feel his gaze on me.

Kubritz's boot kicked into my ribs, forcing me to turn on my back. "Such a shame really," She pulled a syringe from a pouch on her hip. "I told you this wasn't over, but it is now."

_PSFs are ordered to kill them now, Aja._

"No -" I gasped out. My hands tore for the panic button, but Birdie was already pinning me down. "No! No! Get away from me!"

I heard Krel scream my name. I heard Steve say it too. But everything else became a blur, nothing but a buzz of adrenaline as I struggled. I kicked and screamed, writhing and raking my nails through their gloves. Whatever I could do to touch skin. Whatever I could do to fight back.

If I was to die, I would do it fighting.

"But the fellas back home needn't worry," She glanced back at Krel. "Now we have a new mutt to have our fun with."

Hot panic exploded in my chest. "No!" I arched my back, scraping my heels against the asphalt. "No! Stay away from him!"

"Aja!"

I turned my head to see the gunman dragging Krel up by his hair, forcing him towards Kubritz's truck. He - he would put a muzzle on him. Cuff him and beat him and ship him away with all the other Yellows.

They would break him. The way they'd broken me.

Tears seared down my face as I screamed. _"Don't touch him!"_

"Don't worry," Birdie sneered against the shell of my ear. "We'll take good care of him for you."

_"No!"_

Kubritz pinned my arm down with her boot, pulling the cap off the needle. "Any last words?

"Burn in hell!"

_"Aja!" _

"I'll see you there," She grinned.

The edge of the needle pricked against my skin, the inside of my elbow sinking under the pressure. I let loose one final howl, and then -

Then -

A blinding flash of lightning shot over me, a loud _zap_ ringing in my ears. Kubritz was blown clear out of view, her body slamming loudly into the dirt. Birdie shrieked and dove out of the way, my chest heaving for air with their weight gone.

The syringe clattered to the ground.

Birdie and I sat up at the same time, eyes locking before looking at the syringe. She made a mad dive for it, snatching it off the road and springing towards me. But I didn't run. I charged.

When my hands hit her bare throat, I didn't hold back. For the first time, I let go.

Her back slammed against the side of the van, my fingers digging into the flesh of her neck. I watched her pupils blow out wide. All emotion leave her face. The syringe in her hand lower. The feeling of having barbwire in my brain. I knew I had her. She was complete puddy in my hands.

I didn't know what to do, but something inside me did. And I let it take the wheel. I let the river wash over me, pulling me deeper and deeper into memories so dark I could barely remember them. I let everything flood my senses, until it I _was_ her mind.

Everything inside me snowballed together, all the fear. The fury. The adrenaline. It wound into a single line that consumed my mind:

_I want you gone._

I didn't realize what that meant until it was too late.

There was a small squelch, the sound of a needle piercing skin. I jolted me back up from the waves. Back into reality. My eyes followed down her arm, her hand still clutched around the syringe as her thumb pushed the liquid into her thigh.

I felt myself release, stumbling back in horror. I stared, listening to the awful squelch as she slid the needle back out of her leg. Her pupils shrunk back to their normal size, staring in shock at the syringe. Then at me.

_No!_ I wanted to scream. _No, I didn't mean to!_ But my voice wasn't working. Nothing was.

She opened her mouth to say something, but all that came out was bright white foam. And she fell forward, dropping like a board against the road.

My eyes lowered to my trembling hands. "No . . ." It was barely above a whisper. It was the only thing my throat would say.

I heard my name and turned to see Steve. He was out of his cuffs. He was reaching for me.

"Don't . . ." I pleaded, hot blood pouring from my nose. "Please . . . don't touch . . ." The world was swirling into darkness, my body becoming far too heavy to hold.

And then I passed out. Just like I had five years earlier in the free throw zone.

**(A/N): I tried to make it clear (but also didn't, cause it's kinda like how if you explain a joke it's not funny - the same can work with insults), but just in case, the 'mutt' name is supposed to be geared towards the fact that they're biracial. NOT THAT I'M IMPLYING IT'S OKAY TO CALL EACH OTHER DEROGATORY NAMES CAUSE IT AIN'T, but I've been trying to build the villains of this AU into a special breed that makes you hate them all the more. Just thought I'd add that. Thanks for reading! *blows kisses***


	21. 21

**D'aja Vu**

This time, I got the story from Steve.

After I dropped, he said everything went silent. Krel had somehow managed to get one of his gloves off and shot down the armed man and Kubritz, while Steve used his own abilities to lift the cuff keys out of their pockets to get free. So they all just sat there for several beats of terrible quiet.

He said they never checked to see if Kubritz had survived Krel's lightning.

Krel was the first one to touch me, even though he had bruises all the way up his arms. He pulled me into his lap and tried shaking me awake, telling me that the two of us had to go. When Steve tried to approach, Krel held me protectively against his chest.

Steve said Krel told him I wasn't a monster. That I wasn't dangerous. Even after everything they had just witnessed.

He said that's when Eli started freaking out. Going on and on about how he knew we were hiding something - shouting to Steve that they needed to leave before any more trolls showed up. But just like he had five years ago, Steve had refused to leave until he'd helped Krel carry me to the car.

He said he was having deja vu over it for the rest of the night.

The first thing I knew when I came back up to the surface was my head hurt. It was the usual, clamping, agonizing migraine. But just the last of it. That was my first clue to how long I'd been out.

The sunlight streaming through the van windows was the second clue.

The side door had been left wide open, a light breeze blowing over me. Above the static in my brain, I heard the soft chords of Billy Joel's _Piano Man _playing from the radio.

Then I remembered.

And I wished I could curl up and disappear.

I'd killed her. I hadn't even thought about it, and I'd killed her. I'd reached into her mind and I'd puppeteered her death. Apparently it was instinct for me.

"We need to talk about this," Eli's voice sounded from outside. "We need to talk about what we're gonna do with her."

"I don't wanna do this right now," Steve's voice replied. He sounded irritated.

"Too bad," Eli snapped. "You, once again, did not listen to me and who almost got killed because of it? Tell me who, Steve."

"I get it, Eli. Okay? But what am I supposed to do? Just dump her here?"

Yes, that's exactly what you should do. You should dump me here and never look back.

"Why not?" Eli asked. "It's not like it matters."

"Of course it matters!"

"Okay, you are getting way to sentimental about this."

I finally found my arms and legs, dragging myself to sit up. The taste of blood was bitter and metallic, nearly making me retch. It was almost like I was swimming instead of crawling, but I pulled myself towards the door anyway. For the first time, I realized I was alone in the car.

Why couldn't I have pressed the panic button when I had the chance? Why had I ever thought to stay with Steve and Eli? To pretend like I belonged?

The only people I belonged with - the only people that would ever embrace me for the monster I was - were the people that had put this button around my neck.

"How are you not sentimental?" Steve asked. I caught a view of him and Eli sitting around a makeshift campfire. "She's your friend too."

"Okay, backpedal," Eli rolled his hands. "She was never our friend."

"And you say I'm the one with the black heart."

"Both of you," I announced, dangling my legs out the door. "You can stop fighting, alright? Just tell me where Krel is and we'll leave."

The two boys nearly jumped out of their skins when I spoke. As if they hadn't even expected me to wake up. They gave me a blank stare for a moment, apparently at a loss for words. But there was something different about it this time. The same thing that is always different after people know. I wasn't a lost kitten in the road anymore, I was a monster they'd let crawl under their bed.

"Aja," Steve finally managed. "We weren't -"

I shook my head. "Just tell me where my brother is. Please."

"He . . . went to get water but -"

I pushed myself out onto the grass. "Which way."

"There, but Aja -"

"Oh for the love of -" Eli threw up his hands. "We were talking about Black Betty not your Orange ass."

I was so caught off guard me knees gave out and I crashed right back onto the lip of the van. "W-what?"

They continued their stare, but this time, it was the wounded kitten stare.

"Did you think we were gonna leave you?"

I stared back at them, tears in my eyes. "Why wouldn't you leave me?"

"You're our friend."

"Yeah, _her,"_ Eli shot him a pointed look. "The human. Not the minivan."

Steve ignored him.

"Besides," He tried for a shrug. "What's so wrong with being Orange? So what if you can get into people's heads? I can throw people like rag dolls. Claire could bust through walls. Eli can speak languages he doesn't know."

"You know it isn't the same," I shook my head. "I don't just get into people's heads . . . I take things. Ruin things. I hurt people. And then last night . . ." I swallowed. "Being in people's heads is like being in quicksand. The more I try to pull free, the more damage I do."

There was a beat of silence.

"You don't have to worry about last night," Eli finally said. "We know you didn't mean for it to happen."

"Birdie was a troll that had been tailing us since we got out of Caledonia," Steve said. He stood and sat beside me on the lip of the van. "She was a horrible person, trust me. The world is not gonna miss her."

My eyes went back and forth between them. "You aren't . . . scared of me?"

"I mean," Eli shrugged. "If you wanted to hurt us, you would've done it by now."

"It's not about what I want," I said. "Whatever I touch, I destroy. Literally."

"Is that why you don't like touching people?" Steve asked. I must've looked like a deer caught in headlights.

"'Cause yeah," Eli said. "We picked up on that."

I shook my head, looking down at my hands. "I can't control it like you can. When I was in Birdie's head, I didn't even have to think it, I just . . . _did_. I can't keep living like that. Like I'm a danger to everyone around me."

"We don't think you're dangerous."

I stared at them. "You just saw me kill someone."

"It was an accident," Steve said.

"Don't you get it?" I cried. "That makes it worse! What if the next person I have an 'accident' with is you? Or Eli?"

My voice cut off after that, tears gathering in my eyes. I turned away, scrubbing my raw hands against my face.

"I don't want to hurt you guys," I finally whispered. "You're my friends too."

"Aja," Eli stood up, sitting beside me so that I was sandwiched between them. "There was . . . someone we knew . . . in Caledonia."

I wiped at my face again. "What are you talking about?"

He sighed. "Jim, he got the PSFs to think he was Blue, when really, he wasn't. He - he's Red, Aja."

Something in me stilled. Red? The image of flaming cafeterias and screaming kids filled my mind, but I shook it away.

"I'm sure you of all people understand that it wouldn't be good news for PSFs to find out what he can do," Eli continued. "So someone helped him trick them. They made the whole break out possible."

"An Orange," I whispered.

"We never knew who they were," Steve said. "Jim and the others kept that info to themselves, and for good reason. But whoever it was, they were good at being an Orange. Like, really good."

"If they survived the break out," Eli said. "Then they'd have to be at Trollmarket. We could help you find them. Then maybe . . . they could help you."

I was at a loss for words. For so long I'd been so hopeless. No one could do what I could. No one understood. But now . . .

"You really think someone could help me?"

Eli gave me a flat look. "No, Aja. I'm telling you this damn story because I think you're broken and unfixable."

I gave a humorless laugh. "Sometimes I think I might be."

"Sometimes I think I might be too," He said. "But I guess that's just a part of growing up."

"Oh, you're awake," Krel appeared in the tree line, his backpack stuffed with plastic water bottles. "The gas station I found didn't have any aspirin, but I figured you'd want to wash out your mouth."

I didn't even realize how papery my mouth was until then.

"So," Krel pushed a water bottle into my hands, leaning against the side of the van. "You guys tell her about the Orange you know?"

The boys nodded.

Krel kicked at my shoe. "What do you think?"

I looked at him. "You're asking me?"

"You are the only Orange here."

"No, like," I shook my head. "I thought you said you didn't want anything to do with Trollmarket."

"I don't," He shrugged with one shoulder. "But I do want you to be okay. And if there's someone in Trollmarket that could help you, and that's where you want to go, I'm with you."

"Really?"

He dropped his chin to his chest, giving me a knowing smile: _Of course, stupid_.

"We're with you too," Steve added. "As long as, you know, you want us to be."

I meant to laugh, but it came out more of a sob. Tears were flooding my eyes again, a warmth filling my chest. I almost didn't believe it. For the first time in far too long, I wasn't alone.

"Are you . . ." Eli leaned back from me. "Okay?"

"Yeah," Another laugh-sob as I wiped my eyes. "Yeah, I - I'm great."

"Is that a yes?" Krel asked.

"Yes, yes, let's do it," I nodded, straightening my shoulders and lifting my chin. "Let's go carpe the hell out of this diem."


	22. 22

**The 'L' Word**

That afternoon we had a funeral for Black Betty. It more or less consisted of Steve and I shoving wildflowers into her engine and the four of us staring at it for a good two minutes.

"I wish we could light her up, you know?" Steve said. "Have her go out in a ball of fire."

Eli raised an eyebrow. "It's a minivan, not a Viking."

We walked into the next town, hot wiring the first empty car we came across. It was a black Toyota Corolla, according to Steve at least.

"I didn't know you knew so much about cars," I said from the passenger seat.

"Oh, you didn't?" He said. "I'm better with motorcycles, but I do know my way around the automobile art, a delicate thing most people wouldn't understand."

"Help me," Krel groaned in the back, his hands on his throat. "Your ego is pushing all the air out of the car."

"So we crossed the border into Jersey early this morning," Eli said. "We're looking for signs and Heartstone - whatever that is. But before we do that, what about wherever you guys were trying to go? We're going there first, right?"

"Yep," I said over my shoulder. "What's the address again, Krel?"

He made a strangled gasp, reaching towards the front seats. "I'm still suffocating . . ."

I reached over and slapped my hand against his back so hard he flopped onto the floor.

"Feeling better?"

He picked his head up, glaring as he rubbed his neck.

Steve glanced at him. "You gonna tell us the address or not, buttsnack?"

"It's an apartment complex in Trenton," Krel said, Eli pulling him back into a seat. "Rider avenue - I think. Somewhere near there."

"Trenton . . ." Steve drummed his fingers on the wheel. "That'll probably take us - maybe a couple hours? Eli can you find it?"

"Um," Eli's finger traced down the map in his lap. "Oh, here. Rush Crossing Apartments, that sound familiar?"

"Yes," Krel nodded. "That's it."

I turned in my seat, glancing back at him. "And you're sure that's where the signal was?"

Another nod, slowly this time. "I'm sure."

"You guys really think it could be them?" Eli asked. "You think it's your parents?"

Krel and I looked at each other, the ache I felt appearing behind his eyes. How badly we missed them. How desperately we wanted them back.

"We hope it is," I said, and I turned back in my seat.

We drove well into the night, navigating the pitch black streets before us with the one headlight that would work. Eli and I traded spots eventually, since Eli was the only one that could tell where we were going. Krel and I leaned on each other in the back, a thrumming anticipation coiled between us, so strong it was almost suffocating - for real.

It could be our parents - Mama and Papa. We could be together again, after all this time. It was almost easier _not_ to think about it.

It was around three in the morning when our one headlight passed a scuffed sign: RUSH CROSSING APARTMENTS

Krel and I shot to attention as the car turned down the avenue. My knee was bouncing involuntarily. It felt like a balloon was being blown up inside my chest, every breath tighter and tighter. We were this close. This. Close.

I was about to be sick.

The majority of the apartments looked abandoned, with broken windows and missing doors. I'd heard of things like this happening when the economy tanked. Banks and people alike were going broke, so places like this were shut down. Houses were repossessed. The homeless population skyrocketed. I guess Rush Crossing didn't stand much of a chance.

"This place isn't creepy at all," Steve muttered under his breath.

"Aren't you guys the Creepslayerz?" Krel asked. "This should be right up your alley."

"Why _did_ you get name the Creepslayerz?" I leaned forward. "Of all things."

"Ever heard of goblins?" Eli craned his neck to look at us. "Gnomes?"

Krel shrugged. "That's what they call tribes of homeless people."

"What's wrong with them?"

"Usually nothing," Steve said. "But sometimes they band up and pick off kids."

"You mean like trolls?"

"Trolls sell kids for money," Krel said. "Goblins and gnomes . . . kill them. Usually pretty brutally."

I felt my insides twist. "Why?"

"Religious mumbo jumbo," Eli waved his hand. "Keeping the 'freak' population under control. For fun. All the usuals."

"How could anyone think like that?" I cringed. "It's . . . disgusting."

"Which is exactly what worries me about this place," Eli said. "I mean, as banged up as it is, it really isn't bad shelter. Creeps would thrive here."

I put my hands up on Steve's seat. "Good thing we have the Creepslayerz then."

He winked back at me. "Good point."

"Yeah, as comforting as that is," Krel rolled his eyes. "We should probably approach this carefully."

"You guys got a flashlight?" I asked.

Eli reached into the glove box to pull out a small, hot pink device, tossing it back to me. "It's almost out of battery, but it should work fine for now."

"I've got one," Krel said, pulling it from his bag. "It's not exactly the best either, but it'll work."

I glanced around at all the different buildings lining the street corner. Each one looked to hold maybe ten or so apartments, and there was an entire neighborhood of buildings. Were we going to have to search them all?

"Did you ever figure out the apartment number?" I asked. "Something to help us narrow it down?"

He sighed. "No, the signal wasn't strong enough to pinpoint exactly where it came from. I only know it was somewhere in here."

"There's no way we can search all these apartments," Eli said. "Especially how high a chance we've got of bumping into some creeps."

"Aw, come on, Eli," Steve reached over to bump his shoulder. "Wouldn't you like to knock some goblin heads again? Just like the good old days?"

"No," Eli pushed up his glasses. "As a matter of fact, I would not. But I _would_ like to make to Trollmarket in one piece -"

Suddenly, Krel was pressed up against his window. "Stop the car!" He shouted. "Right here! Stop the car!"

The car screeched to a halt, tossing me into the back of the driver's seat. But at least I didn't smack right into the dash like Eli. His glasses were knocked right off his face.

"There a reason you got Steve to slam on the breaks?" He snapped.

I scooted beside him. "Krel, what is it?"

He put his finger against the glass, towards the back of the building we were facing. I followed his eyes, looking up to the row of windows at the top floor. It was hard to make out anything but the paneling in the dark. But there was definitely something hanging over the far right window. I squinted, catching some kind of crack down the middle of it. Maybe it was some sort of plank, or -

Skateboard.

It was a skateboard.

Krel and I locked wide eyes.

"That's my skateboard," I gasped.

"The one you broke over Ben Wither's head."

Steve craned his neck back. "You sure it's yours?"

"Positive," I breathed.

"Okay," Eli slipped his glasses back on his face. "Remember, let's just take this carefully and -"

We were out of the car before he'd finished speaking. The night air was chilly when it hit me, but the buzzing feeling in my chest kept me completely numb. It took Krel and I all of three seconds to get through the busted side door. It was almost colder inside than out.

Not to mention that it was completely pitch black, and the smell of mildew was practically making my eyes water. But as soon as Krel smacked his flashlight on, we bolted down the hallway and up the creaky stairs.

My heart was pounding in my ears. The balloon in my chest was bursting. We were almost there. Mama and Papa could be just one floor away.

We rounded the rotted out banister and flew down the right hall. There were three doors, but we instantly knew which one to try. The one that had a tiny version of the Big Dipper scratched above the door knob. Krel and I had done the same thing on our bedroom door when we were toddlers.

We grabbed the knob at the same time.

"Together?" I asked.

"Together."

Too bad it was bolted. The force of us crashing ourselves into it just about knocked the wind out of me.

"Uh, hey guys?" Someone panted from the stairs. "You wanna . . . slow down . . . maybe?"

I turned to see Eli and Steve stumbling towards us, their blinking flashlight blaring in my eyes.

"What happened to approaching this carefully?" Eli narrowed his eyes.

"The door's bolted," Krel replied. "Did you bring your lock kit?"

My brows pinched together. "Lock kit?"

Eli ignored me. "Do you even hear yourself?"

"Look," Steve spread his hands. "I know you guys are excited, but there could be anything behind that door. Behind any of these doors. Take it from someone who knows, we need to be careful."

"Yes," I said. "But does Eli really have a lock kit?"

Steve sighed, his eyes rolling back. "Eli, just go get your kit."

"Are you _serious_ -"

"And my bat."

Eli took a moment to glare. "Fine." And his light disappeared back down the stairs.

"Why does Eli have a lock kit?" I asked, mostly to break the tense silence.

Steve shrugged. "The buttsnack's good at being sneaky."

That's awfully vague.

When Eli returned he was holding a small purse and large baseball bat. He handed it over to Steve, letting the barbed wire wrapped around the end catch some light.

"You've had that this whole time?" Krel asked. "And you never used it?"

"We never ran into any creeps."

"And let's keep it that way," Eli said, approaching the door. "By staying _quiet."_

He pulled a small, needle-like tool and a long, flat tool from the bag. He inserted the pieces over each other, sliding them back and forth with a few clicks sounding. Finally, he pushed the flat tool in as far as it would go and then slowly turned it to the right. The sound of the bolt sliding out of place followed.

"Your parents better not be armed," He grumbled.

"Oh," I gave a nervous laugh. "Didn't even think about that."

Eli rolled his eyes.

The second time Krel and I reached for the door handle, Steve raised his bat over his shoulder, ready to strike. Eli backed up behind him. Krel eased his spare hand out of the glove. I braced myself.

We opened the door.

It was dead quiet. Pitch black. The smell went from mildew to dust. And the temperature seemed to drop a few more degrees.

I took a step in, Krel holding the flashlight beam out in front of me. The floorboards creaked beneath my weight, but other than that, there was no other sound. No movement.

"Hello?" I whispered to the dark.

No response.

The apartment had a living room, a few bedrooms down the hallway, a bathroom across from them, and a kitchen. There was no furniture. No carpet. And dust absolutely everywhere. But it was smeared around too. Like someone had recently disturbed it.

In the kitchen, we found a broken microwave and a scratched up table. There were cans of food in the cabinet beneath the sink, some toiletries too. But there wasn't any running water. And on the counter, sat a laptop.

Krel passed me the flashlight to reach for it, tears in his eyes. "Papa's laptop."

"They were here," I whispered.

"Maybe they still are."

Krel hunched over it, opening the laptop and bathing all of us in blue light. There were files crowding the screen, messages and relays. Threats. News articles. Refutes against charges. Code words. Safe houses. But all of it was old. Out dated.

Useless.

Krel continued clicking through it all anyway, like he was looking for something.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Tracking their history," He said. "Whatever they did last on this computer . . . it has to mean something."

He scrolled through several more files, typing his way through an encryption to reveal a single video file. It was titled: THIS IS WHAT YOU DID TO YOUR DAUGHTER

Krel and I locked eyes, swallowing hard. Steve and Eli glanced at me, but I pretended I hadn't noticed.

So Kubritz really had sent them the video.

Krel clicked out of the file, continuing to type past several more encryptions and continuing to ignore the questioning glances behind us. Another video file came up. This time, it was titled with Krel's name.

I leaned towards the screen. "What's that?"

"Nothing," He instantly clicked out of it. "There's nothing else on the computer."

"But what about -"

"I said it's nothing," He closed the laptop.

"Well, obviously it's not -"

"Obviously, we have other things to worry about," Krel snapped. "We need to search the rest of the apartment, in case they left something behind."

I looked at him for a moment, seeing how guarded his face had become. "Okay," I chose my words carefully. "We'll split up. You go with Eli, I'll stay here with Steve."

"That's a good idea," Steve perked up.

"That's a horrible idea," Eli said. "It's always safer to stick together."

"Why don't _you_ go with Eli," Krel narrowed his eyes at me. "And I'll stay here with Steve?"

I glared back. "Well, why don't _you_ _-"_

"Here's an idea," Eli cut me off. "How about the two of you go together and sort your fight out in peace? Preferably before it gets us caught."

"We're not fighting." Krel and I said the words in unison, making Eli lower his brows.

"Could've fooled me," Steve mumbled.

"A stop sign could've fooled you," Krel spat back.

"And we're leaving." I grabbed his arm, tugging him down the hallway.

The first room we entered was full of overturned furniture. Like someone had taken everything in the house and dumped it into this one room. It was dusty and moldy like the rest of the house, left largely undisturbed. There was nothing to find, but Krel and I were lingering anyway.

"Can we please talk about this?" I finally asked.

Krel didn't turn to look at me, fascinated with some dresser drawers. "Talk about what?"

I had to take several deep breaths to keep myself civil. "You know what, dumbass. Stop ignoring the elephant in the room."

"Don't call me a dumbass."

"Don't act like one."

He slammed the drawer closed so hard the dresser rattled. I almost thought he was gonna whip around and yell something at me. But all I heard was an exhale, and then he turned towards the door.

"We need to keep going."

"No," I caught his arm again. "Krel, you can't keep ignoring this."

"Ignoring what?"

"That you don't trust me!"

"What are you talking about?" He ripped his arm back. "Aja, this isn't the time -"

"It will never be the time," I interrupted. "And I'm talking about the fact that you've been hiding things from me since I got out. You've been lying about things. And then back with the League, you gave me all this cryptic crap to figure out and now, I just want to know what the hell is going on."

He turned away again.

"But you won't tell me," I said. "Will you?"

He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

"Why don't you trust me?"

He buried his face in his hands. "It has nothing to do with trust, Aja."

"Then why are you hiding things from me?" I threw up my hands. "What do you think will happen if I find out? What are you so _afraid_ of?"

"That you'll leave!" Krel whipped around. "And I can't lose you again, okay? I don't care how wussy it sounds," He scrubbed under his eyes. "I need my big sister."

I blinked at him. ". . . What do you mean you think I'll leave?"

No answer.

"You're my little brother," I said. "I won't leave you again. There's nothing that could change that."

A tear fell from his eye. "You don't understand."

"Then make me understand," I put my hands on his shoulders. "Please, Krel . . . you're scaring me."

He opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a sigh as he bowed his head.

"Look," I said, tears filling my eyes. "I know we're different people now. I know we've changed. But do you have any idea what if feels like to know the entire world has changed without you? My little brother grew up without me. Our parents grew old without us. Do you have any idea what it feels like to have missed that much? And it doesn't matter how badly you want to catch up, because the people you trust the most are the ones keeping you in the dark."

I had to swallow.

"I don't want to be coddled. I don't want to be protected. I want the truth, Krel. No matter how scary or sad it is, just tell me."

His eyes stayed on the floor. "I can't."

"Why?"

"You'll hate me."

I moved my hands to either sides of his face, making him look up at me. "I could never hate you."

He reached up and wrapped his rubber hands around my wrists. Tears poured down his face. "It's my fault," He finally choked. "It's all my fault."

"What are you talking about?"

"It's my fault you were in Thurmond -"

"No," I cut him off there. "That's not true, Krel. You can't tell yourself -"

"Just listen to me!" He cried, tugging on my arms a little. "When I bargained with the League, we all agreed on a date your rescue would happen. It was supposed be at the end of that year, December thirty-first."

"My birthday," I whispered.

"But then . . ." Krel shook his head. "Then something happened. I started noticing things. They warned me not to go poking around in what I didn't understand, but that's just it. I _wanted_ to understand. I wanted to know what they were hiding."

I chuckled. "Did you?"

My smile instantly faded when I saw the horror in his eyes.

"What happened?"

He took a shaky breath. "Every once in a while, a kid would go out on an Op and they wouldn't come back. Leaders would chalk it up to the fact that Ops were dangerous, and they are. But there was a pattern to the disappearances, Aja. Anyone who got too close to something, anyone who wouldn't let the League control them. I thought I could blow the whistle, I thought -"

A sob burst from his throat. He pulled away from me, scrubbing his hands over his face. "I don't know what I thought. I don't know why I believed I could stand up to them. I was just a kid."

"You still are," I said.

He dropped to his knees. "God, it's all my fault."

"What is?" I fell beside him. "What did you do?"

"I tried to warn them," He sobbed. "I knew who they were targeting, and I tried . . . but they wouldn't listen to me! My own team wouldn't listen to me. I tried taking matters into my own hands but . . ." He shook his head. "It went wrong. It went so wrong."

I put my hands on his shoulders again. "It's okay, Krel -"

"No, it isn't!" His head shot up. "I thought they were just killing kids off, keeping the 'freak' population under control, but I was wrong. They experiment on them, Aja. They _torture_ them. All in the name of some fantasy cure."

Cold tears were pouring down my face, icy horror knotting in my stomach. It was almost too much to process. To lure kids into that kind of trap, it was almost too cruel to imagine.

Almost.

"When Zeron discovered what I knew, as he inevitably would," Krel croaked. "He pushed the date back another year. He warned me to keep my mouth shut, but I didn't listen to him. I thought I could fight back, I thought -" He looked down at the rubber gloves. "I thought I could use my name and my abilities to prove them wrong. To get you out of Thurmond. I thought they made me strong. But they don't," He clenched his fists. "They made me reckless and stupid. And I'm the only one that didn't pay for it."

I wiped a few of his tears away with my thumb. "What are you talking about?"

"The next Op we went out on," He leaned away from my hand. "My entire _team_ . . . they vanished. I was barely friends with them, and only because I had to be, but they were still kids. They were just like us, Aja. All they wanted was to go home."

"What do you mean they vanished?" I asked, even though I knew the answer.

"They took them - to teach me a lesson. That night, Zeron woke me up to thank me for all the new lab rats. He said I deserved to see my work, so he dragged me down into this hidden basement and he -"

I put a hand over my mouth. "Oh my God . . ."

"He made me watch, Aja. He made me see what they did to them - what _I_ did to them," He buried his face in his hands again. "I can still see it."

I yanked him into my arms before he could stop me, letting him sob into my shoulder. His arms clung to my waist and I clung right back, cradling a hand against the back of his head. I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out. There were no words to make this better. So I just held him, the way Mama used to hold me when I cried.

"From then on," Krel said into my shirt. "They kept close tabs on me. If I ever slipped up - ever made them even _think_ I'd try something - they'd push the date back another year. If anyone got even remotely close to me, they'd target them. I was their puppet on a damn string and there was nothing I could do." He leaned back. "And if I ever said anything wrong, ever raised suspicion of what they were doing -"

He slipped off his gloves, holding out his trembling hands for me to see. There, on the very tips of his fingers were thin, wrinkled scars. Frostbite scars. Davaros had nearly identical ones after she'd been chained to the fence that winter night.

"Zeron would lock me in this freezer," He choked. "He'd just leave me there for hours at a time. He said I wouldn't be such a good hacker if I didn't have my fingers anymore."

"The video on the computer . . ."

"I don't know how, but Zeron knew Mama and Papa," Krel said. "Or at least, he knew Morando. When we found out that Thurmond was sending our parents videos of them torturing you, he thought it would be a great idea to do the same with me."

"Does Zadra know they were doing this to you?"

"No one could know," He replied. "Especially no one I cared about."

"That's why we couldn't talk about it," I said. "In the gas station, after I saw what was in Zeron's mind."

Krel hung his head. "I couldn't risk anything that day. That's why I said all those things in the car -"

"So I would leave with you," I finished.

When he looked back up at me, I could see the raw fear behind his eyes. How scared he was of what I might say next. What I might do next.

_You'll leave!_

"Why are you looking at me like that?" I pulled him back into my arms. "When we were in Zadra's truck, I told you I was proud of you. I meant it."

"You shouldn't be."

I yanked him back, grabbing his face again. "This isn't your fault, Krel. I told you it was bullshit before, and I meant that too."

"You weren't even supposed to spend one year in Thurmond," He said. "Because of me, you spent over _four."_

"You were twelve!" I cried. "You were a kid and the League took advantage of it! They hurt you and then they punished you for it," I gripped his head tighter. "They're messing with your mind, Krel. You have to see that."

He looked down. "I don't think I want to see anything anymore."

His words killed whatever I was going to say before it left my mouth, everything inside me going still. So instead, I reached up and wiped my bandaged hands against his face, letting the gauze soak up the tears. I didn't even care that it stung.

"Well I want you to see things," I finally said. "I want you to see sunrises and snowfalls. Fields and big, open roads. Big cities. Small towns. Oceans. Mountains. Fancy computers. Old car shops. Those weird vinyl records. And all the stars in the sky. You know why?"

Krel looked dumbfounded.

I leaned over and kissed the top of his head, just the way Papa used to. "Because I love you. And nothing in this world could ever change that."

He more or less collapsed in my open arms after that, not having the energy to push me away anymore. I clung right back to him, silent tears pouring down my face as I swore to myself that no one was ever hurting my little brother again. I wasn't alone anymore. And now, neither was he.

"I love you too," He said.

Then Eli screamed.

We shot apart, meeting each other with wide eyes.

"Oh no." We said the words in unison, then jumped to our feet and bolted for the door.

Coming out into the hallway, we saw Steve and Eli standing outside the bathroom door, both visibly trying not to vomit.

"What did you two do?" Krel asked.

"We searched the other rooms," Steve replied. "We thought we should look in the bathroom, but . . ."

"But what?"

"Bodies," Eli whispered. "In the bathtub."

A cold wave of fear washed over me. ". . . What?"

"There were at least two," He said. "Rigor mortis hadn't even set in, so they couldn't be more than a day old - at least . . . I think."

My feet took me forward before I told them to, pushing passed them to get to the door. But Steve caught my arm.

"Don't," He said. "Trust me, it's not something you wanna see."

When I looked back at him, I had tears in my eyes. "I have to . . . I have to make sure it's not them."

"Them?"

"Our parents," Krel's voice was tight. "You said there were two?"

"I think," Eli squeaked.

I took a deep breath, swallowing the ache in my throat and looking back at Krel. "Hand me the flashlight."

"Aja -"

"Krel," I held out my hand. "We don't have time to fight about this."

He sighed as he gave in, slapping the flashlight into my palm.

I clicked it on, took one last deep breath, and stepped into the bathroom. It wasn't much different from the rest of the house. Dusty. Grimy. Old. But the shower curtain draped in front of the bathtub looked brand new.

"Is it them?" Krel croaked from the hallway.

"I haven't looked yet."

He let out an exasperated sigh. "Then hurry up."

I glared over my shoulder, tempted to throw an insult, but I bit it down and turned back to the shower curtain. He was just scared. I was too.

The second a pulled the curtain back, the smell of blood and piss smacked me in the face, strong enough to make my eyes water. I gagged, holding my sleeve over my mouth and nose as I looked down. I could make out the bodies without the flashlight beam. A man and a woman, judging by their hair. The back of both their skulls had been blown off.

"Please, please, please," I prayed, squeezing my eyes shut before aiming the beam.

It -

It wasn't them.

I exhaled the biggest breath I'd ever taken. "It's not them."

I heard Krel exhale a breath just as big.

"Then . . ." Steve asked. "Who is it?"

I shined the beam down again, moving down from their pale faces to their black uniforms. "PSFs," I said. "They must've come looking for trouble."

"Looks like they found it," Steve replied. "That's probably why your parents left."

"Two days," Krel muttered. "We missed them by two days."

"They have to be close," I stepped out of the bathroom. "It's only two days, they couldn't have gotten that far."

"It did take us like three weeks to get out of West Virginia," Steve added.

"Yeah," Krel said. "In a minivan on a bunch of back roads. Our parents didn't go into hiding without making connections. With their resources, they could've boarded a plane. They could be anywhere."

"So we're back at square one," I said.

He sighed. "Let's just get back to the car."

"Now _that's_ a good idea," Eli muttered.

"Grab Papa's laptop," I said. "There might be something on it we can use."

"If they left it behind that means it's been wiped clean of any relevant information." He swiped it off the counter anyway.

"Isn't it a bad idea for kids to use the internet?" Steve asked. "You know, with the whole, 'government know-all see-all' thing?"

Krel followed me out the door. "There are ways to block them."

Eli thudded down the stairs with us. "No, there's not."

"Yes, there is," Krel raised an eyebrow. "I invented one of them."

I glanced over my shoulder. "You invented what now?"

"Mother," He replied.

"Who?"

"Not who," He said. "Mother. It's the name of a program I developed with the League. It works like an invisible safety net."

"Huh?"

"It means it blocks any outside source from seeing your information," He replied. "Then covers your tracks once you're done."

We stepped back out into the night air, Eli walking backwards to face Krel. "And you said _you_ developed this?"

"I mean, I didn't do it alone," Krel said. "But yes, it was my idea."

Eli turned back around, his face pulled in an angry pout.

"You okay?" I asked.

He clambered into the car, folding his arms and glaring at the floor. "Fine."

Steve looked over my shoulder. "He's just butthurt because Krel's not Green but still smarter than him."

_"No,"_ Eli's face went bright red. "I'm allergic to _dust_, okay? I don't feel well."

"Don't worry," Krel grinned. "You'll get used to it. All the Greens do."

Eli practically had steam coming out of his ears.

Steve went for the driver's side, but I caught his arm. "Let me drive."

"You need to sleep," He said.

"So do you," I replied. "You've been driving since yesterday. Let me give you a break."

"You know where we're going?"

"Krel can help me navigate."

Climbing into the driver's seat, I waited for Eli to begrudgingly hand his oh-so-precious map over to Krel before putting the car in gear. Krel thumbed over it, completely unable to wipe that stupid smirk off his face.

I rolled my eyes.

It wasn't even ten minutes before Steve was loudly snoring in the back. And it wasn't even twenty minutes before Krel started banging his head against the window.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Maybe if I hit my head enough times, I'll die."

"Quit being dramatic," I replied. "You get used to it after awhile. I mean, look at Eli. He was able to fall asleep."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

"Fork in the road," I announced.

Krel glanced at the map spread across his knees. "Make a left."

"Where's the place we're going again?"

"Lakewood?" He had to squint to read in the dark. "According to Eli it went belly-up a few years ago because of the economy. Completely abandoned."

"Not a bad place to hide out," I commented.

"Exactly," He said. "That's where him and Steve think we should start looking."

"Speaking of them," I glanced at them in the rear view mirror. "We need to talk about one more thing, preferably while they're still asleep."

Krel sighed. I could see how the conversation we'd had in the apartment had exhausted him. Bringing it up again was like putting salt in the wound.

"I told already you everything," He muttered.

"I know," My tone went gentle. "It's not about you. It's about Mama and Papa."

He sat up straighter. "Okay."

"Why does everyone think they're traitors?" I shot him a glance. "What did they do?"

Krel opened his mouth to answer, but then closed it again. He ran a hand down his face. "Do you want the truth or the sugar coated version?"

I thought for a moment. "Sugar coated version."

"According to every official in the senate," Krel said. "The Tarron couple developed a cure for IAAN but instead of prescribing it to the public, they planned on trading it for control over the economy and the federal government. When it wasn't granted to them, the research itself was lost."

"Okay," I said. "Now what's the truth?"

"They never developed a cure," He sighed. "They never even came close. But they were investing in the research, as nearly everyone else was at the time. But then the research . . . crossed an ethical domain."

I felt my insides twist.

"Mama and Papa tried pulling out. They tried getting the whole program shut down with the evidence that it went against every human right in existence," He ran his fingers through his hair. "They threatened to get the UN on their side. Morando had to shut them up somehow."

"So he slandered our name."

"Our name. Our home. And basically everything else we had."

"Was it released to the public?"

"Kind of," Krel shrugged. "People already knew Mama and Papa's names, Morando just put a negative connotation to it. But the story was mostly aimed at officers and officials of the military."

I looked over at him. "How do you know all this?"

"Zadra told me," He replied. "Half the reason I developed Mother was so I could check all the facts myself."

"Is that what you did for the League?" I asked. "Zadra said they needed you for something, is that what it was?"

"Yes," He tilted his head from side to side. "But they were also running low on Yellows."

I exhaled, adjusting my hands on the steering wheel. "Did she really not know?"

"Who?"

"Zadra," I said. "You two were with the League almost five years. And she never picked up on what was going on?"

He looked away. "Just because we were both in the League doesn't mean we were together. Thanks to Zeron, we were almost always on separate bases."

"What about . . ." I pursued my lips. "What about Varvatos?"

Krel tensed. "What about him?"

". . . Zadra said the two of you joined together. Did he ever know what was going on?"

It was a full minute until he finally answered. "Yes. He did."

"And he just let it happen?"

Another minute. "It's a long story."

"I've got time."

"Please, Aja," He ran a hand down his face. He was crying. "I'm so tired. I just want to sleep. Please, let me go to sleep."

Now it was my turn not to say anything for a full minute.

"Do you still blame him?"

Krel didn't look up from the floor. "I don't know. Do you?"

I felt a few tears fall. "I don't know."

There were a few beats of silence before I spoke again.

"You can rest if you want. I don't think I'll need the map until morning."

He didn't say anything, he just reclined his chair and undid his seatbelt to curl up.

"I love you," I told him.

"I love you too." And he turned away.


	23. 23

**Water-up**

It was just after four in the morning when I reached Lakewood. Pulling over to the side of the road, I parked the car under a canopy of trees and reached over to shake Steve awake.

"Keep watch?" I asked. "I just need an hour or two."

He grunted, nodding as we stumbled over each other to switch places. I dropped into the seats beside Eli, letting my head drop back against the cushioning. It was sunrise when I picked my head back up again, a horrible crick going through my neck.

I groaned as I sat up, massaging the stiff muscles. "What time is it?"

"Seven-thirty," Steve replied from the driver's seat. Krel and Eli were both awake, but they had switched places again.

"So," I continued rubbing my neck. "What are we doing now?"

"Well now that we're done waiting for you to get up," Eli said. "We're going to start poking around Lakewood on foot. The radio message told us to look for 'the signs', so we're gonna go find out what the hell that means."

"Do we have to go on foot?" Krel asked. "I mean, what's so wrong with just driving around? We'll cover double the ground in half the time."

"We'll also be spotted by double the creeps in half the time," Eli retorted. "Besides, 'signs' could mean anything. We want to be able to reach places that are off the road."

Krel sighed. "Fine. On foot it is."

We started off as soon as the sun was off the horizon. The weather was at a weird in between state. Too cloudy to be called sunny. But not cloudy enough to rain. The four of us walked along the skeleton of the town, just grateful for the shade.

Lakewood itself was, like I said, a skeleton. You didn't see buildings, you saw through them. Whatever homes hadn't been leveled by the elements were completely hollowed out. The streets were cracked. Entire sidewalk squares had been ripped up. At one point, we rounded a rotted corner of a building to catch a circle of homeless people sitting around a trash can fire. But Eli ripped us back before any of them could see us.

"Trollmarket wouldn't be near a place where just anybody could go," He said. "It would be goblin and gnome proof. So it can't be near here."

We headed towards the outskirts of town, following the tree line along what Eli claimed was Tom River. That's when we caught our first clue.

Krel was the first one to notice.

"Hey," He smacked my arm. "Look."

I followed his pointing finger to the sign up ahead on the trail. It read: ROAD ENDS, but most of the letters had been scratched out. I squinted, tilting my head before I realized what the letters left spelled out.

ODE. Or, as we know it, EDO.

I ruffled his hair. "Good eye, little brother."

We followed the dead end road, going off the trail and crashing through the wild underbrush.

"You sure this is the right way?" Steve asked, after the third time he'd tripped and face planted. "I mean, the trail ended forever ago."

"I think that's the point," Eli replied. "It's somewhere creeps, trolls, and PSFs wouldn't bother with. And the sign pointed this way, so get up, we're gonna keep moving."

It was mid afternoon by the time we came across the retirement home. It was built a ways away from the town, but after the death of Lakewood, it was practically in the middle of nowhere. The building was wide and tall, like a quaint hotel. The sign sitting before the entrance could've been as big as a billboard.

"Hearthstone Assisted Living," Eli read aloud.

I moved my hand over the 'H' in 'Hearthstone'. It had been scratched out.

"Heartstone, New Jersey," I said. "This is it."

"But look at it," Krel said. "It's just as abandoned as everything else here. There's no way any kids are hiding out in there."

"Maybe it's something on the sign," Steve said, stepping closer. "Maybe it's another hidden message."

I scanned over it again, Krel and Eli beginning to bicker over some puzzle code behind me. Nothing else on the sign had been disturbed, and nothing else attributed to any of the other clues we'd seen. They couldn't have based all of it off this one sign, so there had to be something else. Something else here that we just weren't seeing yet.

My feet were crunching through the grass as I rounded the sign, looking through the faded vinyl. There, on the back, were those . . . burns?

No, they were words.

"Hey," I shouted, abruptly ending Eli and Krel's fight. "I think there's something written here."

The boys crowded behind me, helping me pull the tall grass back enough to reveal the sentence that had been melted into the vinyl. It was something in Spanish.

Steve threw up his hands. "How are we supposed to read something in a language we don't know?"

"_Lo opuesto de la cascada_," Eli said.

"Oh yeah."

"What does it say?" Krel asked.

"'The opposite of waterfall'," He translated. "It's another clue."

"The opposite of _waterfall_?" I parroted.

"Water-up?" Steve suggested.

Krel looked at him. "I don't think that's a thing."

"It could be talking about the river," Eli said. "Maybe there's some part of it that flows up-stream."

"How can only part of a river flow up-stream?" I asked.

"It doesn't matter," Krel said. "It's must be referring to something simpler than that."

"Simpler than the only body of water near here?"

"It doesn't make any sense," I said. "How can a waterfall have an opposite?"

"It's water-up," Steve spread his hands. "I'm telling you guys."

"And _I'm_ telling you," Krel said. "It's not."

"Maybe it has something to do with fire," I said. "I mean, the words were burned into the back of the sign. And you did say Jim was a Red, right?"

"Yeah but," Eli held out his hands. "Do you see anything to do with fire around here? The puzzle has to be something we can solve here. It's like a key. We're at the door, we just need to get it open."

"And if it was just fire," Krel added. "Why would they say 'waterfall' instead of just 'water'. It has to be something specific to that."

I rubbed my hands against my face. "Then what is it supposed to be?"

"_Water-up_," Steve sang.

"There's no such thing as 'water-up'," Eli snapped. "Quit saying it."

"Why don't we search the building?" I asked. "Maybe there's another clue in there."

Eli cringed. "That thing is barely standing on its last legs. We search it, we're gonna fall through the floor."

"You got a better idea?"

"She has a point," Krel said. "We can't stay out in the open forever."

"And it's not like we can just walk back to the car," Steve added.

"Fine," Eli mumbled. "We'll go in. But if any of you see stairs, stay away from them."

Needless to say, when Steve tried the main stairs and fell through the fourth step, Eli just about had an aneurysm.

"What did I just say?" He screamed.

I grabbed Steve's arm and hoisted him back to sturdy ground. He had a long cut up his calf from the rotted wood, but other than that he seemed fine.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"My leg," He grimaced. "It stings."

"That's what you get for not listening to me!" Eli shouted. "Maybe then you'll flippin' learn!"

"This doesn't make any sense," Krel shook his head. "We're here. This is Heartstone, New Jersey. We're at the door but . . . there's no door. This building is just a bunch of rotted out plaster and wood. There's nothing here."

"What happened to the old Trollmarket?" I asked. "Whatever happened there could've happened to this one. Maybe we're here, it's just gone."

"No," Steve shook his head. "This absolutely nutso troll, Angor Rot - or at least, that's his bounty hunter name - he was the one that destroyed Trollmarket. He burnt it to the ground. Completely floored it. Let me tell you buttsnacks, it was chaos. And there's no evidence of even a struggle here."

"Steve's right," Eli said. "If the new Trollmarket was destroyed, then there'd be evidence left behind. A lot of it."

"But Krel's right too," I said. "There's nothing here. What are we supposed to do?"

Eli glared out into the setting sun behind the clouds. The sky was just getting grayer and grayer, little showers beginning to fall.

"It's looks like it's gonna rain," He said. "If we can't make it back to the car, we should stay here. At least for the night. If we don't find anything, we can head back in the morning."

"We'll need to start a fire," Krel said.

"We've got plenty of wood," Steve waved his hand. "Anybody got a lighter?"

"I can make one," Eli replied.

"You can?" Krel's brows pinched together. "Out of _what_?"

Eli smirked. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Now it was Krel's turn to have steam blow out his ears.

"Steve," Eli called. "Throw me your backpack."

He did so, leaning against me and letting me guide him into a sitting position against the wall. Eli began digging through the bag for different wrappers, piling them beside him.

"Is there anything we can do for your leg?" I asked, lowering myself beside him. "It's not too bad of a cut, but I think I see some slivers."

Some fairly large slivers, too.

"Eh," He waved his hand. "Don't you worry, I've survived much worse."

"There's a first aid kit in my bag," Eli said, tossing it to me. "If he needs stitches, don't tell him until the last minute. He'll cry if he sees a needle."

Steve blushed. "Eli!"

"It's okay," I giggled. "I'm not the biggest fan of needles either." Especially since the last time someone tried to give me a shot they were trying to kill me.

Wow. What a great example of what not to think about right now.

I pulled a pair of tweezers from the kit, poured some rubbing alcohol to disinfect them, and then began picking at the bits of wood in the skin. Steve squeezed his eyes shut, taking a sharp inhale from the sting.

"You okay?" I asked. "You can tell me if it hurts too much."

"What?" He tried to laugh. "Pff, pain is nothing to me."

I pressed the edge of the tweezers into the cut again, pushing deeper against another sliver. Steve threw his head back, a small cry sounding from his throat before his clamped his mouth shut. His fists were clenched almost as tight as his jaw.

"Nothing, huh?"

He blushed again.

"Give him something to squeeze," Eli said, flicking open a switchblade over his collection of wrappers. "Like your hand or something. Krel, I need your flashlight."

"What for?"

"Cause the batteries in mine are dead, now would you like to freeze to death or not?"

"Here," I stretched out my leg beside Steve's hip. "Hold onto that."

"What?"

"Well, I can't exactly give you my hand," I wagged my foot back and forth.

"But . . . you don't like people touching you."

I looked up at him, my hands freezing over the cut. "I don't care if people touch me, I just don't want to hurt them."

He hand hovered over my calf. "So this is okay?"

"As long as you don't touch any skin," I gave him a soft smile. "It's more than okay."

The warmth of his hand seeped straight through the fabric of my leggings, a stark difference against the chilly air - that wasn't so chilly anymore.

"Ready?" I asked.

He nodded.

I let the tweezers close around the sliver, then gave one harsh tug, ripping it out into the open. Steve's hand clenched around my leg, his fingers digging in as he cried out again. I picked at another one anyway, hoping to get as many out as soon as possible.

"Just three more," I assured him.

"See, Steve?" Eli said from his pile of trash. "This is what happens when you don't listen."

"Suck it, Eli," Steve grunted.

"There," I set the tweezers back into the box. "All the slivers out. Now just let me . . ." I poured more alcohol onto a clean strip of gauze, tapping it over the cut. Steve's grip on my leg tightened, his teeth grinding. But then he relaxed.

"Well," I tied off the wrapping of gauze. "There goes the last of our bandages."

"So I'd recommend listening, _Steve_," Eli said.

"Yeah, yeah," Steve shifted against the wall. "Whatever, buttsnack."

I helped Krel gather what dry sticks we could and placed them in the rusted out fireplace as kindling. I went out towards the tree line to get bigger sticks, something to actually feed the fire, wapping at bugs the whole way. Eli brought over the battery and a very thin strip of a gum wrapper, kneeling down next to us.

"This isn't gonna last very long," He said.

Krel squinted at the battery. "Fascinating," He said.

Eli grinned.

Placing the wrapper metallic side down on either side of the battery, a flame sparked in the center of the wrapper. Immediately, Eli put the tiny flame against the kindling, blowing gently onto it. The light and heat slowly grew, us adding wood gradually until we had a steady fire within the hearth.

"Clever trick," Krel said. "How'd you figure it out?"

Eli shrugged. "It's just something you pick up."

Again, how awfully vague.

I swatted at a few more bugs, the last light of the sun burning over the horizon. "Ugh," I groaned. "I wish we had bug spray."

"They won't bite you," Krel said.

"Yeah," Eli said. "They're just fireflies."

"Then why aren't they glowing?" Steve asked.

"It's not dark out," Krel replied. "Besides, not all fireflies glow, genius."

"Uh, I don't think so, buttsnack. It'd be pretty dumb to call something that doesn't glow a firefly."

Krel exhaled an angry breath out his nose. But whatever he was about to say was cut off by me gasping. "Look!" I threw out an arm, pointing out the opening of the gauged wall into the tree line. Golden specks of light were beginning to dance back and forth against the branches. Like stars against the dark woods.

"Lively," I hummed.

Eli scooted around to get a look, something in his face going soft. "Yeah, fireflies are pretty cool. We used to go see them all the time back in Arcadia."

"Arcadia had fireflies?"

Eli glanced back at me. "You never saw any?"

Krel shrugged. "We didn't spend much time outside."

Eli turned back to the ever growing sea of lights, his eyes going gentle again. It took me a moment, but I recognized that look. I recognized it because I'd seen it in my own face countless times. In Krel's face. In Mary and Shannon's faces. In Davaros's face.

Eli was homesick.

It made me wonder. How could Eli miss Arcadia so much, but Steve couldn't seem to get far enough away from it? More than that, the two were so opposite in every possible way. It made me wonder how they'd even become friends.

It was Steve that snapped me out of my thoughts. "Why did you guys come to Arcadia in the first place?"

I didn't answer right away, a prick of pain going through my heart as the memory came to mind. I crossed my legs under me, resting my elbows on my knees. "Our home wasn't safe anymore. We had to go some place Psi hadn't gotten so bad."

"And Arcadia was your first choice?"

"It wasn't our choice at all," Krel snapped. "But . . . I guess it wasn't too bad of a town."

"You said you went on the run," Eli scooted back around. "And I get that, but why did PSFs torch your house?"

I ran my fingers through my hair, pulling it down over my forehead - as if it could actually cover the brand there.

"They hate us."

"What about you guys?" Krel asked. "You became the Creepslayerz before Caledonia, right?"

"How long were you even in Caledonia?"

Steve shrugged. "About a year."

That's it? One lousy year?

I shook off the angry feeling growing in my chest. I knew better than that. I knew that it didn't matter how long you were in those camps. You could be there for two days and already be broken.

"But how were you named the Creepslayerz?" Krel asked.

Steve and Eli exchanged a guarded look. A look Krel and I had exchanged a thousand times before.

"We knew Jim from school," Steve started. "And when kids started going into hiding, most of the town hid the kids together. Kind of like a secret group home - it's actually what Jim turned into Trollmarket."

"We picked up on his weird behavior and figured out he was the Trollhunter before anyone else did," Eli chimed in. "Besides his mom, I guess. At first, we thought he was working as a double agent for the trolls to sell kids out. Good thing we were wrong."

"They were having a huge creep problem," Steve said. "Especially with goblins. But they were so preoccupied with trolls, they needed some help. So we ended up saving the day."

"What's the difference between goblins and gnomes again?"

"Goblins are more like cults and gnomes are more like gangs."

I stared at him. ". . . Huh?"

"Goblins kill the kids they capture themselves," Eli said. "Whether it's over sacred-scripture-shit or just for fun, they perform actual 'sacrifices' or whatever. Gnomes take kids, but instead of getting their own hands dirty, they force the kids to fight to the death. And then they bet on it. Kinda like dog fighting."

"Goblins are more into gore," Steve said. "While gnomes are more into sport."

"And you guys," Krel glanced back and forth between them. "Took them down?"

Eli's eyes went to the fire. "Three rings of gnomes. One really big ring of goblins. That was us."

I waited for Steve to boast another comment, but he stayed silent. They both did. Just staring absently into the fire. As if taking down cults and gangs was nothing to be proud of.

"Eli?"

He looked over at Krel. "Yeah?"

"How long did you live with gnomes?"

It was like all the air had been sucked out of the room. My head whipped towards Krel's. Steve's back shot right off the wall. Eli's eyes blew wider than saucers, his face going pallid. All the while, Krel kept his eyes on Eli. Perfectly calm.

"Krel," I elbowed him. "Why would you say that?"

"Because it's true," He leaned back on his palms. "Isn't it?"

Eli had no words. His mouth hung open. His eyes unblinking behind the frames.

"How . . ." He finally choked out. "How did you know?"

"Steve said you're good at being sneaky," Krel shrugged. "Gnomes are notorious for that. You pick locks. You make lighters out of trash. You know with the patterns homeless people follow. It just makes sense."

"You mean to tell me," Steve leaned forward. "That you solved Eli's tragic backstory like a goddamn _puzzle?"_

"I am pretty good at puzzles."

I looked back at Eli. "You lived with gnomes?"

"Uh . . ."

"Yes, he did," Steve answered for him. "And it was for a lot longer than it should've been. End of story."

"Were your parents involved?" I asked.

That was enough to shock Eli back into reality.

"What? No! My parents were the ones trying to get me away from all of it!"

As soon as the words left his mouth, something in him deflated. He fell back on his knees, eyes going back to the fire. "They wanted to get me out of Arcadia, but the night we left . . . gnomes stopped our car on the freeway and pulled me out."

He looked like was about to say more, but all that came out was a sigh.

"So they made you fight?"

"No," He began scratching at one of his scars. "They were going to, but . . . they had it set up like a stadium, right? With lights and seats and a really crappy sound system. Right before I was supposed to go into the ring, some idiot tripped and spilled his beer into one of the speakers. I was the only Green they had at the time, so they got me to fix it. I did such a good job, they decided to keep me around - as a repair boy, I guess."

"That's . . ." I breathed. "Lucky."

"Right?" He gave a humorless laugh. "The only reason I ever made it out of there was 'cause some idiot was too tipsy to walk straight."

I thought back to the night Kubritz had branded me. To the man that had forced them to let me go - just because he'd finished his dinner a little earlier than normal.

"I know what you mean," I said.

Krel leaned forward. "How did you make it out of there?"

"Patience," Eli's scalp was starting to go red from the scratching. "I knew I'd get the chance to escape, I just had to wait for the right moment."

"What happened?"

"I had to get them to trust me," He said. "Or at least, trust the idea of me. I had to show them that I wasn't going to cause any trouble - that I would never disobey until they stopped taking precautions in case I did. First chance I got, I cracked a baseball bat over some lady's head and made a break for it. I was on the streets for a couple days before Tobes found me."

"Tobes?"

"Domzalski," Steve clarified.

"Jim was the one that helped me get back to my parents," Eli continued. "And when the creep problem escalated, I was the first one they called."

"They must've been so happy to see you," I said. "Your parents."

"Yeah," Eli's face turned to a sad smile, his eyes growing misty. "They were."

His face changed again, as if he were snapping out of something. Like he was equally shocked, confused, and irritated that he'd suddenly spilled so much information. Steve chuckled under his breath when he saw the expression, clearly knowing what it meant. I think I did too.

Eli was opening up to us.

"Well what about you guys?" He threw back at us, almost defensively.

Krel snickered. "What about us?"

"How did you get with the League?" Steve asked, cutting off whatever Eli was about to say. "And how did only one of you end up in Thurmond? Why did you guys split up?"

Krel's smugness vanished.

"We . . ." I swallowed. "We didn't choose to split up."

"Then what happened?"

"It's complicated," Krel said.

"More complicated than getting kidnapped and enslaved by gnomes?"

"I guess you have a point there."

"We were traveling with someone for a while," I said. "An old family friend -"

"Your grandpa?" Steve asked.

I nodded. "We were just trying to stay safe. But . . . we split off from him."

Eli's brows pinched together. "Why would you leave your sole provider and protector? I mean, survival wise, that's a pretty stupid move."

Krel looked into the fire. "Maybe it was."

"It's not that simple," I shook my head. "He - he had betrayed us. He took our parents from us and then he lied so we would stay with him. After we found out the truth, we just couldn't trust him anymore."

I hadn't expected to feel tears coming, but I blinked them back as soon as I felt them. It's so strange. How something can hurt so badly after so long.

I bet Varvatos would understand that.

"I'm sorry," Eli finally said. "That's . . ."

"Yes," Krel sighed. "It is."

"We didn't make it a week on our own," I said, salt bitter in my throat. "We crashed our car. We ran out of water in the hottest West Virginian summer ever recorded. And then we ran into PSFs."

"That's how you ended up in Thurmond," Eli nodded to himself.

Steve leaned over to see Krel. "How'd you get away?"

"I . . ." Krel glanced at me. "I don't know."

"How could you not know?"

"I was sick," He said. "Heat stroke. I wasn't even conscious when the PSFs came. I just woke up one day and . . . I was alone."

He looked back up at me, they all did, waiting for me to fill in the blanks.

"PSFs were in the area because of some tribe," I said. "At least I think. I'm not sure. But one of them spotted me and . . . I guess I panicked. I knew there wasn't anywhere for us to run, and Krel wasn't waking up, and . . ."

I sighed, running my fingers through my hair again.

"They found me. But not before I made sure they wouldn't find Krel."

Krel scooted closer, resting his head on my shoulder. I leaned my head back on his. _Whatever happens_, Papa's voice said to me, on our first day of school at the academy. _You two always have each other. You are each other's family. Make sure your peers know it._

"That's really brave," Steve whispered.

I barely heard it, he probably hadn't even meant to say it out loud, but I felt my chest grow warm anyway.

"So how did you end up with the League?" Eli asked.

Krel shifted. "Varvatos - our, uh, grandpa, I guess - he'd been following us. He found me before I could get myself killed. I convinced him to get me into the League as soon as I'd gotten better, since they were the only ones who'd be able to get Aja out of Thurmond."

"Where is he now?"

Krel shifted again, his lips quirking as he thought. "Still with the League."

"Did you guys talk while you were there?"

"Kind of." Krel said the words with finality. That was the end of his story. No matter how much more there was.

"So," I glanced back at Steve. "How about you?"

Steve laughed. "Yeah, nice try, buttsnacks. But I don't do tragic backstories."

"Oh come on," I said. "We all shared."

He winked. "And we're gonna keep it that way."

"He joined the League with his step-dad a few years back," Eli said.

Steve's eyes blew wide. "_Dude_ -"

"I had to tell them about gnomes," Eli replied. "You can tell them about the League."

Steve settled for a glare.

"You have a step-dad?" I asked.

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah . . ."

"It's Coach Lawrence."

Steve gave him a flat look. "Really?"

"What?" Eli threw up his hands. "They don't care."

"So you joined," Krel said. "And then what? What told you they were bad news?"

Steve shrugged. "I joined because Coach had the connections and we thought it was the safest place for me to be at the time. But it got pretty shady pretty quick and I decided I wasn't sticking around to find out why."

"So you went back to Arcadia?"

"Back to Trollmarket," He said. "And then I became a Creepslayer."

Eli looked over at him, an unspoken message going between them. Eli was expecting him to say something else, but Steve was staying stubbornly quiet. He'd skipped a few parts of his story. I was almost tempted to press him, but then I remembered how many parts of our story Krel and I had skipped.

"Coach Lawrence," I muttered the name a few times. "Why does that name sound so familiar?"

"He coached Steve's soccer team," Eli said.

"Yep," Steve shifted, clearly uncomfortable.

"I think he coached the girls basketball team too," I said, drawing my knees to my chest. "You know, when there still was a team."

There were a few beats of silence. Just the crackling of the fire and the buzzing of fireflies.

"Hey," Steve said. "I know this is a little late, but I'm sorry for what I said."

I blinked. "What are you talking about?"

"The stuff I said about your team, it was dumb. I'm sorry."

Krel leaned over to see him. "You mean when we saw you guys in the gym back in Arcadia? Five years ago?"

Steve flushed, shrugging as he gave a nervous smile.

Krel smiled back. "Sorry for tackling you."

"It's good," He replied. "I would've tackled me too."

"Wait a minute!" Suddenly Eli was on his feet, eyes blown wide as he bounced on his toes.

"You okay?" Krel asked.

"Wait a minute, wait a minute, wait a minute," Eli muttered to himself, pacing the length of the room and tapping his index finger against his chin.

Steve glanced at him. "Peppers?"

"Of course!" Eli threw up his hands. "That's it!"

"What's it?" Krel asked.

"Firefly!" Eli beamed. "It's firefly!"

"Eli," Steve said. "We've already established that they're fireflies."

"Don't you get it?" He was buzzing with excitement. "It's the answer to the riddle! Water . . . fall -"

"Fire . . . fly," Krel stood as he said it. "That's it! That's the clue!"

"Firefly is the opposite of waterfall!"

"Yes!"

The two high fived, knocking their shoulders together.

"Okay, okay," I spread my hands. "Firefly is the clue, but how is that supposed to help us?"

"Yeah," Steve said. "There's like a million of those things."

"But look," Eli pointed across the room, through the caved-in wall and into the next part of the building. There, in the rotted remains of a structural wall, were a whole nest of fireflies. The four of us made our way over to the glowing cluster of lights, leaving the heat of the fire behind.

"They're probably attracted to the rotted wood here," Eli said. "It's where they like to lay their eggs."

"I could've gone my whole life without that information," Steve replied.

"You've gone your whole life without lots of information," Krel commented.

I wapped the back of his head for it.

"Here," Eli lowered into a crouch, sticking his fingers through the cracks in the floorboards. "Steve, help me."

The two boys hovered over the boards, ripping them up with a loud _clunk_ as the nails came loose. But . . . the nails hadn't come loose, a latch had. A latch keeping the boards down over an empty space.

They were meant to be removed.

In the dip in the floor, I could see a large trap door. Metal and square with a thin coating of rust over it.

"You sure this is it?" Krel asked. "It looks . . . old."

"Oh, this is it," Eli nodded. "Come on."

It didn't take all four of us to lift, but we did it together anyway, revealing the long dark passageway heading straight down. It didn't smell like dust or mildew like the rest of the building. It smelled like fresh earth.

"You sure this is safe?" Steve asked. "Maybe I should go -"

Flashlight in hand, Eli leapt down into darkness. And I dropped down after him.

**(A/N): PLEASE TELL ME IF YOU SOLVED THE RIDDLE BEFORE THEY DID (or any of your guesses)**

**I JUST WANNA KNOW**


	24. 24

**I Come From A Land Down Under**

I fell maybe three feet, landing easily against the packed dirt seconds after Eli. I grabbed his elbow as I rose, letting him lean on me as he got to his feet.

"You okay?"

He clicked on the flashlight with a grin. "Phenomenal."

"It's a tunnel," I called over my shoulder. "But it looks man-made."

"Do you see anyone?" Krel's voice asked. "Hear anything?"

"All quiet on the western front," Eli replied.

"Nerd," Steve said.

"Wait," I pointed to the ground. "I think these footprints are fresh. Let's follow them."

"If you're not back in five minutes," Krel said. "We're coming down after you."

"Got it."

I eased myself forward after Eli, following the twisting tunnel in the dim light. I felt the temperature lower, the ground slanting down. As if the tunnel was just leading us deeper into the earth. It probably was.

What was this place? The Trollhunters couldn't have just dug a bunch of tunnels in the time it took us to get here. They must've already been here. So, why were they here?

Something caught my eye, making me touch Eli's shoulder and guide the beam towards the corner where the floor met the wall.

Eli tilted his head. "What is that?"

"Not sure." I squinted as I crouched down, wondering if I was seeing it correctly. Was that . . . a video game controller?

I had a split second to duck when I saw the sledgehammer.

"Aja, look out!"

Shrieking, I dropped to the ground, locking my hands over my head as the hammer embedded itself into the dirt wall with a loud _thud_. A cloud of dirt burst over my head, raining down on my neck.

I heard Eli cry out, then my name being called faintly behind me, but the sound of blood rushing in my ears drowned it out. The sledgehammer was ripped from the wall by invisible hands, flying across the dark towards the outline of a figure.

"Who's there!" I shouted, groping for the flashlight Eli had dropped when he'd been knocked onto his back pockets.

"Toby!" A voice called back. "Grandson of Nana!"

"Huh?" I clicked the flashlight back on, revealing a young boy - no older than me. I had to blink a few times to recognize him. Toby Domzalski - from Arcadia.

He'd grown a few inches taller, maybe. His auburn hair had been swept to the side, growing over his eyes. He was still wearing his braces, along with some kind of metal armor. Orange armor, that appeared to made from car parts, complete with a headlight on the center of his helmet.

"Oh, uh," He eased the sledgehammer over his shoulder. "Sorry, I thought you were a troll."

"I can see that."

"Tobes!" Eli jumped to his feet, slamming Toby into a hug.

"Wha - Eli?" Toby stumbled against the hug. "You - you finally made it here!"

"Aja?" That was Steve's voice, getting louder as he followed my trail through the tunnel.

"It's okay," I called back. "We're fine."

"Wait," Toby stepped forward, flicking his headlight to turn it on. "That sounds like . . . Dillweed?"

Steve's face appeared around the corner, his eyes growing wide. "Jumbo?"

"Ha, ha! What do you know?" Toby threw his hands up. "The Creepslayerz made it out in one piece after all!"

"What? You doubted us?"

"It's good to see you too," Toby replied. "But who are these guys?"

Krel appeared behind them, his eyes focusing on me. "You okay?"

I rose to my feet, dusting off my sleeve. "Fine."

"These two are a couple of strays we picked up along the way," Eli said.

Toby squinted between us. "Did you guys live in Arcadia? You look kinda familiar . . ."

"We lived there for a couple months, yes," I said.

"They're the Tarrons," Steve said. "Remember the kids that hacked the power grid for the science fair?"

"That was _you_?" Toby's eyes were wide. "You guys were legends!"

I put my hands over my mouth as I giggled. "Thank you."

"Come on," Toby waved over his shoulder as he started back down the tunnel. "It's not much farther out."

We followed him down the tunnel a ways, him, Steve, and Eli going back and forth about where they'd been and all the different close calls they'd had. I felt my insides twist when I heard them bring up the fact that Birdie wasn't a problem anymore, thinking for a moment they might give me away. But neither of them did. Just glossing over the subject like it was nothing, Steve sending me a wink over his shoulder.

Krel gagged.

A dull, colorful glow began to glimmer at the end of the tunnel as we approached it. Voices and footsteps, dozens of them, began humming through the walls. Smells of fruits and grilled meats were making my mouth water. When we finally reached the end, a huge, woven curtain was hung over the massive entry way. It would've been big enough for double doors if it had doors.

Toby touched the curtain, turning back to grin at us. "Welcome to Trollmarket, guys."

When he pulled the curtain back, the neon lights were the first thing to hit me in the face. I had to squint, holding my hand in front of my eyes after being in the dark for so long. When my vision finally cleared up . . . I don't even know how to describe what I saw.

Trollmarket was a world of its own.

It was like a small city in a pocket of the earth. Neon lights covered the walls, flashing every color I could imagine, but still somehow soft. The the giant staircase led down from the opening to the dirt floor, which was covered with sloped of different shops and cabins. Little structures that were every bit homemade as they were breathtaking.

The structures continued up the walls and down different tunnels, all different shapes and sizes, spreading like a real, living thing. Some were higher towards the ceiling, forming little balconies. And some lead even deeper into the earth.

Wherever there wasn't neon, there were pipes up the walls. Dozens of wheels and turns for water and plumbing.

Then the kids. More than I could count, coming and going in and out of tunnels and structures. They covered the floor, the neon lights above making them almost seem to glow. They laughed. They ran. They turned squeaky wheels for water. They pelted half-eaten fruit at each other. And they hung dried meats out for hungry hands to take.

They breathed the life into Trollmarket.

_"Lively,"_ I gasped.

"I know, right?" Toby turned to smile at me, but I couldn't look away from the city.

"This is . . ." Krel managed behind me. "Incredible. How did you pull this off?"

"A whole lotta people and a how lotta elbow grease," Toby replied. "We think this place used to be some kind of bomb shelter? Turns out the old folks home upstairs used to be an official government site in the seventies, so it had a crazy big bunker. They sealed this place down when they converted it into a home, so we did have to dig it up. And then we just kinda . . . built off of it."

"This is ten times what the last Trollmarket was," Eli said. "This is just crazy."

"Never fail to blow your mind, huh?" Toby waggled his eyebrows.

"How long has it been up?" I asked.

Toby shrugged. "A few months. It's still a work in progress."

"Wait," Krel held up a hand. "But you only broke out of Caledonia several weeks ago."

"True," Toby nodded. "But we still had all the changelings to man the ship while we were gone. And they did a pretty good job."

"I'll say."

"Good hiding spots like this exist all over," Toby said. "You just gotta know where to find them."

We started down the stairs, the view taking my breath away again. It was more than surreal. It was literally like stepping into a magical realm.

"This place does not look like a work in progress," I said.

"The power of teamwork, my friend," Toby said. "Jim could go on about for hours. Speaking of which, he always likes to meet the newcomers. So come on, it's just through here."

We followed him down the stairs and through the center of the little city. As we walked, I noticed kids beginning to part ways for us, not just to check out the newcomers, but also to wave at Toby. They knew him. And he knew them. They were all friends.

Climbing up another set of stairs, we entered into yet another tunnel across from the entryway. Halfway through, the tunnel transformed into a room, a wide desk at the center. It was covered with maps and papers, bizarre looking tools and pens. Dozens of different maps, some even hand drawn, were pinned along the walls.

The first person I noticed was the man, stout and short with a receding hairline. Dark sideburns. A blue button-up. And a suit coat.

"Master Jim," He said, facing the young man wrapped in car-armor like Toby's. But his was silver. "They claim they did put up the necessary supports, and the cabin is still threatening to collapse."

The young man had his back to us, leaning over the desk of papers. The only thing I could catch was a tuft of jet black hair at the back of his head.

"See if we can get someone who's made a successful cabin to look at it," He said. "If they didn't miss a support beam, then something must've happened with their materials."

"Hey, Jimbo," Toby announced. "We got fresh meat over here."

The boy turned, revealing stark blue eyes and a dirt smeared nose. The second he saw Steve and Eli, his face brightened.

"Guys!" He approached, the three of them going into a group hug. "I knew you would make it here eventually."

"We had a few mishaps," Eli shrugged. "But hey, we're here."

Steve glanced anxiously around. "Where's the other Trollhunter?"

Jim's face became an odd mix of proud and sad. "She's here. Just resting right now."

Eli's face lit up. "She made it?"

"It was close," Jim sighed. "But Claire's tough."

"Yeah," Eli nodded. "Anyone who can bust through a wall with their brain and walk away I'd say is pretty tough."

"She didn't technically _walk away_ from it," Toby said. "But we get what you're saying."

Jim's eyes flicked over me and Krel. "Are these guys with you?"

"Yeah," Steve said. "We picked them up in West Virginia. They went to school with us, remember?"

"Don't tell me," Jim tilted his head, squinting as he tried to place our faces. "Krel . . . and . . . Tasha?"

"Aja," I corrected.

He winced. "Sorry."

"Don't be," Krel shrugged. "Most people forget our names after two weeks, let alone five years."

"Well, it's great to have you here," He said. "Ever been before?"

We shook our heads.

"I'll get you guys a tour, but before that, do you need anything?" He looked at my hands, then at Steve's leg. "Are any of you hurt?"

I looked down at my bandages. They weren't the cleanest, but they were doing their job.

"Not really," I replied.

When I looked back up, Jim's eyes were raised above mine, pinched in concentration. Then confusion. Then heavy realization. "Oh," He whispered under his breath.

I looked away, swallowing as I pulled my hair over the brand. Jim caught the gesture several seconds before I thought he would, his eyes going apologetic. But that just made me feel worse.

"A question," Krel blurted. "If I may. How do you keep air flowing down here?"

"Air vents," Jim leaned his back against the desk, seamlessly changing the subject. "They were the first things we repaired."

"Actually, Jim," Steve glanced at me. "There is something we need."

He held out his hands, so ready to help. It was strange to see someone like that, after everything else I'd seen.

"We need to talk about something," Eli said. "Something kind of . . . sensitive."

I've never wanted to fold up and disappear so badly.

"Hey, Blinky?"

The man standing over the desk looked up from the maps. "Yes, Master Jim?"

"Could you get the curtain?"

"Certainly," The man strode from his place at the desk to the opening of the tunnel, unlatching the drapes that had been pinned aside. They swished closed, leaving us in the orange neon light of the ceiling.

"What's on your mind?" Jim asked.

"You know that kid that helped us out in Caledonia?" Eli asked. "The kid that helped you look like a Blue?"

An odd shadow passed Jim's face, like he could see the different possibilities of this conversation and was wondering which would be the worst.

I was about to give him his answer.

"We need to know who it was," Steve said. "At least, Aja does."

I ran my fingers through my hair again, using it as an excuse to duck my head.

When Jim looked at me again, I expected to see fear in his eyes. Concern. Maybe even pity. But instead, all I saw was understanding. Gentle acceptance.

"You're Orange too," He said. "Aren't you?"

He didn't say it like a question, and it wasn't one. I didn't even have to say anything and he had his answer. That was the first thing I learned about Jim, how easy it was for him to understand.

"We're hoping the Orange you know can help us," Krel said. " Are they here?"

Jim nodded, folding his arms. "But you won't need to worry about keeping it a secret anymore. Now that we're out of Caledonia, it's safe for everyone's abilities."

"Okay," I said. "Then . . . who's the Orange?"

"Come on," He beckoned over his shoulder. "I'll take you to him. Oh - Blinky?"

The man looked up again.

"Could you give them a rundown of the system here, show them around, make sure they get something to eat?"

"Of course," The man smiled and nodded. "If the three of you would follow me . . ." He gestured out of the tunnel.

That's when it sunk in. The cold, clinging fear wringing inside me. They were going to separate me from my little brother.

Thinking back, it was an absolutely ridiculous thing for us to freak out over. We were going to be apart for what? twenty minutes? Not even that. But in that moment, it didn't seem ridiculous. It seemed earth shattering.

Krel and I exchanged a glance, stepping a bit closer to each other a bit further back from the two strangers in front of us. Panic was rising in my chest, and no matter what I did, I couldn't get it to stop. A part of me knew this was stupid. That it was irrational to think just because I was leaving Krel now meant I was leaving him forever. But the static in my brain was choking out the logic.

Once again, Jim caught on much sooner than I thought he would.

"It won't be for too long," He said. "I promise. It's pretty late anyway, kids are supposed to be going to sleep in like a half-hour. Blinky will show you guys a place to stay, I'll have you meet our Orange, and you'll be back together for a late dinner."

He said it so easily, so logically and clean. It made the static in my brain go quiet somehow. He was good at talking to people, I realized. Really good. Mama would've liked him.

"Right," I nodded, furiously blinking back tears. The burning feeling in my chest was becoming embarrassment, making my face heat up. I could feel Krel shifting beside me, just as uncomfortable.

"Come on," He gestured for me to follow, as though I hadn't just threatened tears over leaving my brother's side for ten minutes. As though I weren't an Orange. As though I were just another kid.

I paused, crushing Krel in a hug before finally turning to follow Jim out of a side tunnel rather than the entrance we'd used. I jogged to catch up, noticing the massive sword strapped to his back.

Huh. That's interesting.

"Sorry about that," I blurted, scrubbing under my eyes. "I - I don't know what I - what came over me -"

"Don't worry about it," Jim replied. "Really, it's totally normal."

I blinked. "It is?"

"Oh yeah," He nodded. "Happens to tons of kids here - especially close friends and family members. Even happens to me sometimes."

"Really?"

"Yep," He sighed. "Separation issues. Bundles of fun."

"Tell me about it."

He lead me through a network of tunnels and different rooms branching off from them. It seemed to go on forever.

"How did you build this?" I asked.

"Most of it was already here," Jim replied. "It was supposed to be some kind of basement-bunker thing, but it works pretty well as a hideout too."

"And you run it?"

"Eh," He lifted one shoulder. "That's a strong word for it. Technically Blinky runs everything now."

I glanced at him. "Now?"

A shadow crossed his face. "The first person we had running Trollmarket was named Vendal. We . . . we lost him."

"Oh," I lowered my eyes. "I'm sorry. I - I know how hard that is."

He gave me a half hearted smile as a reply.

"So, if you don't run Trollmarket," I continued. "What do you do?"

"Hunt trolls," He replied.

"Lively."

"It's more of a night job, but thanks," Jim laughed a little. "Whenever I'm off duty, I'm working out the kinks in this place - 'answering every call' and stuff." He used his fingers to make air quotes.

"You must have so many adventures," I giggled.

"Enough to give me a few grey hairs, yeah."

I giggled harder.

"What about you?" He asked. "You been on any adventures?"

"Not _nearly_ enough."

We came to the last room in the tunnel, a dark, black curtain drawn over the opening. Jim stepped in front of the curtain, clapping his hands a few times.

It made me pinch my brows together, until I heard a voice call back. "I'm back here. Come on in."

Jim glanced back at me. "It's how we knock here."

"I see."

Pulling the curtain back, more soft, orange light poured out into the tunnel. The room was bigger than I thought, shelves carved into the rock of the walls, and then actual shelves filled in all the empty space. Books crowded them, but also a bunch of other things I couldn't name. All kinds of tools. Car parts. Kitchen utensils. A couple broken down TVs. It wasn't just a library of books, it was a library of everything.

"Over here," A voice called.

Jim and I wound through the shelves like it was a maze, coming to see a desk set against the corner of the room. It was covered in papers too, just like Jim's. But instead of maps, the papers were covered in graphs and equations. Hand drawn blueprints. Diagrams. And what looked like a technical layout of Trollmarket as a whole.

I had a feeling whoever this Orange was, Krel was going to get along real well with them.

When they came into view, their back was to me, leaning over a notebook full of equations. It was a boy, no older than me or Jim. Cleanly cut hair. Freckles on the back of his neck.

"Hey, Jim," He said without turning.

"Hey," Jim nodded. "I've got someone here you might wanna meet."

He turned and -

And -

I knew him. The memory just snapped into place. So quickly .

I tilted my head. "Seamus?"

**(A/N): ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)**


	25. 25

**You know Perfectly Well Nothing Rhymes With Orange**

Judging by the shock in his eyes, he recognized me just as fast.

". . . Aja?"

"Yeah," Jim glanced at me. "You two remember each other?"

We did have a pretty memorable runin.

Seamus nodded once. "We . . . we were in math together. You and your brother . . . Krel?" His eyes brightened a little. "Is he here?"

"Uh, yes," I folded my arms. "Yes, he's here with me."

"Well, uh, that's good," His smile suddenly became a little shy, his cheeks darkening ever so slightly. "Uh, it's good to see you again, I guess."

"Likewise," I said, shoving the incident we'd had out of my mind. It wasn't even _my_ incident to be mad over. Not to mention it happened forever ago. "So, you're the Orange here?"

"One and only," He replied. "You guys need something?"

"Actually," Jim gave an easy smile. "We're here about your status as the one and only Orange."

Seamus's eyes immediately went to me, going from shy to curious, then right back to Jim.

"Really?"

Jim almost looked proud as he nodded.

Seamus took a step toward me, looking as though he were trying to peer behind my eyes. And then he was behind my eyes - before I even had the chance to stop him.

It was a wave of numbing as he pushed into my mind, invisible hands gripping either sides of my head. I braced myself, waiting for the tumult of memories, the rushing river to come drown me. But it never came.

Instead, clear images appeared in the front of my mind. Like they were being pulled from a filing cabinet. Me pulling off a kickflip on my skateboard for the first time. Krel solving a rubik's cube in ten seconds. The smell of the Chinese takeout Zadra would always get us whenever Mama and Papa were out. "I'm allergic to the kitchen," She used to say.

I saw my hand scratching a fifth 'W' into the paint of my bunk at Thurmond. I felt the crisp spring air as I held my arms out to Krel, the first time we'd seen each other in four and a half years. I saw the rainy, open road as Steve and I laughed in the front seats. I felt Kubritz holding me by my hair. I felt my hands against Birdie's throat. I felt -

He pulled out.

"Well, what do you know?" He looked me up and down. "You are an Orange."

"Yep . . ." I had to pause to shake the fogginess from my head. Jim took my elbow to steady me. "Brain powers . . . got 'em."

Seamus walked a circle around me, examining me from all angles. "Huh," He said.

I crossed my arms over my chest. "What?"

"Oh, nothing," He stepped back. "Sorry, I've just . . . never seen another Orange before."

"Me neither."

"Yellows and up are pretty rare," Jim said. "And that's not just because PSFs have it out for them," He elbowed me gently. "Which is something I'm sure you understand."

I managed a nod.

Seamus's hand was on his chin, his eyes squinting as they scrutinized every detail of my figure. Like I was one of his equations and if he squinted hard enough, the answer would appear.

"Um," I cleared my throat, gaining his attention. "Seamus, I'm here because I need your help."

"Let me guess," He leaned back against the desk. "You can't control your abilities."

I opened my mouth, only to close it again. There wasn't a way to explain it. And based off the look in his eyes, I didn't need one.

"I couldn't control mine at first either."

"How did you learn to?" I asked. "Every time I try . . . it ends in disaster. It's impossible."

"Not impossible," Seamus replied. "But definitely not easy. You see, there isn't a simple answer to your question. In fact, there's like a million answers."

I gave a humorless laugh. "Of course there are."

"All it takes is practice," He said. "The more time you spend doing it, the more second-nature it will become."

Second-nature? I didn't want going into people's heads to become second-nature. I hated doing that. I wanted to be able to stop doing it. I would love for _that_ to become second-nature.

"But first," He stepped forward again. "You can't be afraid to practice. Your abilities are a part of who you are. Coming to accept that is the first step to mastering what you can do. And trust me, there's a lot you can do."

I leaned back. "There is?"

"I'm sure you know people barely understand what Oranges can do, right?"

I shrugged. "I guess."

"People also barely understand what the brain can do," He said. "That's why Oranges are so hard to pin down. That's what makes them so dangerous. They have powers over the mind people don't even realize yet. There's infinite possibilities. Infinite things to discover in another person's head. It's pretty incredible if you ask me."

I wasn't sure if I agreed with him or not.

"And just like that," He said. "There are a million different ways to discover what you can do. I've never met any other Oranges, but I've heard lots of stories about them. I think, because every mind is different, every Orange is different too."

"I guess that makes sense."

"What I'm trying to say is," He spread his hands. "There's no instruction manual for this stuff. Your specific abilities are unique to you. Only you can teach yourself how to fine-tune them."

My insides knotted. "Does that mean you can't help me?"

"No," His hand went back to his chin. "There are basics every Orange needs to build off of. I can teach you how your abilities were meant to be used. Once you have that control, you'll be able to fine-tune on your own."

"I definitely need more control," I muttered.

"Actually . . ." Seamus tapped his chin, then whipped around and began clearing a spot on the desk. "Come sit up here."

"Uh . . ." I glanced at Jim. He gave me an encouraging smile, gesturing towards Seamus. So, as odd as it felt, I strode over to the desk and hopped up onto it.

"Judging by how much dirt your covered in," He dusted his hand across my shoulder. "You just got here."

I nodded.

"Have you eaten anything yet?" He asked. "It's like ten o'clock."

"Blinky's getting her and the guys she was with some dinner right now," Jim cut in. "We're going to go join them after this."

"I see," He turned back to me. "I'm gonna try something. Can you take off some of the bandages on your hands? Not all of it, just like, a finger."

I nodded, examining the bandages before picking at the tip of my finger. The gauze came off fairly easily, revealing the ghost of a raw cut underneath.

"That'll work," Seamus ducked his head. "Before I learned to control my abilities, touching people was like walking into a minefield."

I laughed, even though it wasn't funny. "That's exactly what it's like."

Jim made similar scoff, making me glance over at him. He wasn't Orange, Eli had said he was Red. Pyrokinesis, wasn't it? But even without knowing that, I could see the understanding in his eyes. Even if he wasn't Orange, he knew what it was like to be one.

"Learning to keep your power under reigns is the first and most important thing to learn," Seamus said. "I'm gonna try to show you something with it."

Something in my chest lifted. "Really?"

"I'm not going to solve your problem," He gave me a pointed look. "Again, this is not that easy. It takes time, patience, and practice. But I might be able to help you take the first step. You ready for that?"

"Are you kidding?" I held out my hand. "I was ready four and a half years ago. Let's do this."

"Okay, here's what's gonna happen," He used one hand to grip my wrapped palm and held the other before my naked finger. "Once I touch you, your job is to block yourself out from me. Try not to get into my head."

"You don't think I've already tried that?" I asked. "I told you, when I do things like this, they end in disaster."

"Try imagining a wall between us," He said. "Imagine you have invisible hands for a mind and you are physically pushing me away. But, whatever you do, don't imagine isolating yourself. That never works."

Huh. Now that I think about it, that's all I've ever tried.

"Okay," I took a deep breath. "I'm ready."

It was such a strange sensation to have him touch my finger. An odd contact and pressure that I only had a split second to process before everything bled away. My mind did a knee-jerk, even physically pulling me back - but Seamus kept a good grip on my wrist.

I threw up a wall in my mind, cinder block and concrete. But as soon as I'd imagined it, the image was washed away by the river of memories. I was drowning in it, the current thudding in my face and down my throat.

I imagined throwing my hands up, white-knuckling the image before it could disappear. But it was too late. The river was already pulling me under. I saw dozens of crisp homework pages. A 'Space Camp' banner. Astrology terms written on flashcards. A telescope that looked remarkably similar to the one I had owned - once upon a time.

_You're in my head now_, Seamus's voice said. But it didn't sound like it was coming from his mouth. _That's okay. You just need to figure how to get out of it._

_Without causing any damage_, I added - without even meaning to.

_You can't damage my mind, _Seamus's voice replied. _Right now, I've got you in a hold. Like a controlled fire. If you get too stuck, I can push you out myself. You don't need to worry about anything else yet._

I felt myself take a deep breath, but I could barely hear it. Like I was under water in my own head.

The river was still swirling around me, the current pulling me every which way, images flashing in all directions. I strained everything I had to replace it with an image of me shoving Seamus away. Shoving harder. Fighting up the current. It brought back the sensation of doing push-ups with my mind. Aching and burning. Like there was barbed wire tightening around my brain.

_Stop fighting me_, Seamus said - but didn't really say I guess. _I know it feels like you're drowning but you're not. Follow the pull you feel and let it wash you out._

Suddenly I couldn't get enough air. It felt like there was a strap around my chest, pulling tight and forcing my lungs to cave. The memories were getting brighter, searing into me like a hot stove top. I just wanted them away from me. But the more I struggled, the deeper it pulled me.

_I know it hurts, but you need to let go. Stop fighting the current. Start following it._

The burning lights blocked out anything after that, a sledgehammer cutting right through my skull. I opened my mouth to scream, but nothing came out. At least nothing I heard. Let go, I said to myself. Let go. Let go.

But what about the last time I let go?

_You can't damage my mind._

Here goes nothing, I guess.

It started with an exhale, forcing all my taut muscles to relax. Then I slowed my mind down. I imagined laying on my back on the river, like that one time when I was ten. Mama, Papa, Krel, and I floated down a river while we were on vacation once. I'd laid on my back the whole time, eyes closed as I lazily drifted. I pulled at that memory, imagining every sensation over again.

Reliving it.

The river of sights and smells seemed to run under me rather than through me. I forced myself to relax, imagining the way the sun had shown the day I'd floated down a real river. The soft breeze. The gentle feeling of the water current.

The pain was still thudding through to me, but this time I was using the memory as a shield. I did it once, I just needed to do it again. In my brain.

_Let it wash you out._

I broke the surface.

Suddenly, I could breathe again. I could feel the desk beneath me. Feel the hot blood dripping down my chin. Hear my own breathing. Smell the dirt floors of Trollmarket. And when I opened my eyes, I could see the orange neon shining above me.

Like I had just pulled myself up from underwater.

I retracted my hand from Seamus's, reaching up to wipe the blood from my chin. "Did I . . ." I glanced back and forth between the boys. "Did I do it?"

"Not bad, Aja," Seamus folded his arms. "You've got a lot of strength, I can feel it. You just need to know how to use it."

I was almost at the verge of tears again. That little spark of hope was igniting in my chest. I wouldn't have to live like an island. I could control this. I didn't have to let it destroy me. Jim gave me a gentle smile, reaching over to pat my shoulder in congratulations. I had a feeling he knew exactly what this felt like.

"Come on," Jim nodded his head back towards the tunnel system. "Let's get you something to eat."

"You might want to give her something for her head while you're at it," Seamus said, watching Jim help me off the face of the desk.

My knees didn't do the greatest job of holding me up, but Jim kept a good grip on my elbows to keep me form flopping to the dirt.

"You okay?" He asked.

I nodded. There was an invisible clamp crushing around my skull. My limbs were jelly. My nose and mouth were full of blood. And everything else in me was full of hope. I was more than okay.

I was fixable.

Jim held onto my elbow, his free hand around my back as he helped me walk. I blinked back tears the whole way, cringing and rubbing against the pounding migraine. We managed to work our way back through to the heart of Trollmarket, stopping at a sort of medical tent - but it wasn't a tent.

It was a cabin like all the others. But not like the cabins at Thurmond. Those were concrete and aluminum, bleached and sterilized. These were boards and carpet, homey and unique. Just a hair from falling apart, and somehow still beautiful.

The three kids tidying up inside were able to get me an ice pack and a shot of aspirin. Afterwards, Jim led me back through the place to another tunnel full of large picnic tables and a small makeshift kitchen in the back. Next to no one was there, aside from the few that I recognized. It was pretty late at night, most people were probably heading to sleep.

It made me wonder how they kept time down here.

The boys were talking and laughing over plates of dried meat and some kind of soup. Something about an old story with a cabin falling apart in the middle of the night.

"I'm telling you," Steve said. "It was the worst moment of my life. Imagine you go to sleep already angsty, then you wake up to the sound of the world ending, and then have to go around the rest of your day with everyone knowing you were the dumbass who couldn't figure out how to build your damn cabin."

Krel and Eli were crying with laughter, Toby completely red in the face. But the second they saw me, all four of them went quiet.

"Aja?" Krel shot to his feet. "Are you okay?"

"Lively," I beamed, probably showing him all my blood stained teeth.

"Her and Seamus did a mind exercise," Jim explained.

"Seamus?" Steve asked. "_That_ guy is our Orange?"

"Knew it," Eli muttered.

"Seamus," Krel muttered under his breath. It took him a moment to place the name, and a moment longer to get past the unpleasant memory. Then something else crossed his face, like a shy curiosity. The same look Seamus had.

He looked back up at me. "Really?"

I nodded, Jim lowering me onto a seat. "Can I get some water?"

Steve tossed me his cup, probably just expecting me to take a sip. His eyebrows raised a little when I used it to wash all the blood out of my mouth.

"Sorry," I cringed, wiping my mouth. "I'll get you another one."

"Uh, no," He held out his hands. "It's - uh, it's good. I can just . . . get another one. Myself."

"So what did you and, uh, Seamus do?" Krel asked, sitting beside me.

"I think he was testing what I could handle," I said. "He had me get into his head and then find my way out again."

"And it worked?"

I grinned, this time without bloody teeth.

Krel pushed his fist against my shoulder. "Knew you could do it."

"You might wanna start eating," Eli said to me, pushing me a bowl of soup. "Curfew is in like, ten minutes."

"Curfew?" Thurmond had a curfew.

"I wouldn't call it a curfew," Toby said. "More like a strongly encouraged bedtime."

I looked at him. "How strongly encouraged?"

"We say pretty please," Jim replied. "And then we have people on shift to stay up all night and make sure nobody gets themselves caught or worse."

I blinked. That was not the answer I had been expecting. And it made me smile.

Eating wasn't exactly the easiest thing to do with a nauseous migraine, but I managed. It certainly did help that everything was delicious. The meat was a copycat recipe for homemade jerky. The soup was full of vegetables and even some dried fruits. Anything they had on hand to put in it. If these guys had mastered anything, it was the art of improvisation.

By the time we'd finished, most of the kids had already cleared out. Giving us a clear path for Jim to lead us down. "What place did Blinky show you guys?" He asked over his shoulder.

"In the back," Steve said. "Newest one."

"Oh yeah."

We came to a cabin at the very perch of the wall, wrapped in neon and seemingly on its last legs. It certainly didn't look like the newest cabin.

"Sorry it's a little rickety," Jim rubbed the back of his neck. "We build everything ourselves, and . . . we're still getting the hang of it."

"I think it's lively," I replied.

Jim looked at the boys. "So Blinky gave you a rundown?"

"Everybody has a job to do and a place to stay," Krel summed up.

"Exactly," Jim said. "We'll probably figure out exactly where we need you guys tomorrow, since it's so late. But yeah, this is your place for now. Make yourselves at home and stuff."

"Have some good sleep, dudes," Toby saluted us as the two of them walked away.

Opening the squeaky door, the four of us stepped into the cabin. It was one large room, two bunk beds on either side, a few worn dressers, and a ratted but colorful rug between them. For a split second, all I saw was Thurmond. The cabins. The bunks. But then the scent of fresh earth all the colors of Trollmarket cut through. And I thought otherwise.

I wondered if I was the only one comparing this place to camps.

"Me and Steve can take that bunk," Eli said. "You and Aja cool with that one?"

We nodded, stepping towards it. "You want first pick?" Krel asked me.

I crash landed on the lower bunk, flopping into the worn sheets.

"I'll take that as a yes," His hand brushed over my back. "Let me know if you need a new ice pack."

"Hmm," I mumbled back.

The bunk creaked, shuttering a little as he climbed it. I just buried my head in my pillow and relished the sensation of being freed from a weight I'd been carrying for far too long. It's a weird feeling to have, to know that you're suddenly ready for the rest of your life. We were safe. We were going to be taken care of. And we were going to take care of each other.

Once again, heading straight into the unknown. And this time, it wasn't just me and Krel. We had friends this time - and whatever weird, dysfunctional thing we formed together.

But I couldn't help wishing Davaros was here.

**(A/N): the title of this chapter is actually a line from a barbie movie cause barbie movie's slap and I will defend them till the day I die**

**Thanks for coming to my PSA**


	26. 26

**That's Kinky**

**(A/N): if you think im above tumblr memes you aRE WRONG**

The strongly encouraged wake-up time was around eight am. At least that's what the clock nailed to the wall in our cabin said.

The closest thing they had to an alarm was several kids running from cabin to cabin, banging loudly on each door. It wasn't the most comfortable way of waking up after a migraine, but at least it got me out of bed in time for breakfast.

My brain was still a little foggy as I entered the cafeteria-tunnel - or whatever they call it here. Across the room, there were a few kids handing out bowls of oatmeal, along with fruit leathers and crackers. Krel looped his arm through mine to guide me up to the line, grabbing bowls for both of us.

"You okay?" He asked as we took our seats beside Steve and Eli at the table. "You seem a little out of it."

I rubbed my temples. "Just the last of the migraine. Give it another hour, I'll be fine."

"If you say so."

"What do you guys think our jobs are gonna be?" Eli leaned forward across the table. "I swear, if I get stuck on the night shift again . . ."

"That was your job at the last Trollmarket?" I asked.

"When I wasn't being a Creepslayer."

"Don't give up hope yet," Steve elbowed him. "Being a hunter isn't so bad."

"Hunter?" Krel said it through a mouthful of oatmeal.

"Not _troll_-hunter," Eli said. "That's different. Hunters are the guys that go up to the surface to patrol and gather supplies. The risky stuff."

"The _fun_ stuff," Steve corrected.

"It does sound fun," I took a bite, instantly catching the hint of cinnamon. Who makes the food here? Angels?

Eli just rolled his eyes.

"C'mon, Peppers," Steve clapped him on the back. "Don't you want to get back into the action?"

"I don't know about you," He glared. "But I've had enough action to last me a lifetime."

"Pff," Steve scoffed. "Outside of trolls and creeps, what's the worst that could happen?"

"Well for one -"

"Here we go," Krel muttered.

"- do you have any idea how many kinds of snakes there are in New Jersey?"

"Probably a lot," Steve tilted his head. "But like, what? Two of them are actually poisonous?"

Krel looked up. "Snakes aren't poisonous, Steve."

"Maybe not all of them," Steve replied. "But I'm pretty sure there are poisonous snakes out there. I mean, Coach Lawrence was bit by a rattlesnake once and let me tell you, it wasn't pretty."

"There are _venomous_ snakes out there," Krel said. "But 'poisonous snakes' is not a thing."

"What's the difference?" I asked.

"Poison is ingested," Eli said through his oatmeal. "Venom is injected."

Steve squinted. "Huh?"

Krel put down his spoon. "If you bite it and you die, it's poisonous. If it bites you and you die, it's venomous."

"Well what if it bites me, and it dies?" Steve asked.

"Then you're poisonous," Krel said. "Weren't you listening?"

I put my elbows on the table. "What if it bites itself and I die?"

Eli glanced at me. "That would be voodoo."

"What if it bites me," Steve said. "But someone else dies?"

Krel took another bite. "That's correlation, not causation."

"What if we both bite each other, but neither of us die?"

I bumped my hip against Steve's. "That's kinky."

After breakfast, Jim called us into his office-tunnel-space to discuss our jobs. "Here, we've got assigned jobs and then rotating ones," He explained. "For instance, hunters are assigned, they don't rotate unless it's in shifts. Jobs like sorting, cleaning, or garden duty rotate through. That way no one gets stuck cleaning the bathrooms for forever."

"Where do we start?" I asked.

He looked at Steve and Eli. "We're running a little low on hunters, you two in?"

Steve grinned. "Totally."

Eli rubbed the back of his neck. "You wouldn't happen to be running low on repair boys, would you?"

Jim chuckled. "There are a few washing machines none of our Yellows can zap back to life. Why don't you start there?"

The two boys exchanged a grin and turned out of the tunnel, already knowing where to go.

He looked back at Krel and I. "What about you guys? You have any preferences?"

"Uh, I've actually been meaning to ask you about something," Krel said.

"Shoot."

"Eli talked about you helping kids find their parents," He said. "Is that true?"

Jim sighed. "When we can. We've got a few working computers, but with President Morando filing through every webpage known to man, it's not that easy."

Krel brightened. "We can help with that."

"You can?"

"Oh yeah!" I bounced on my toes. "Krel developed some weird program with the League. He's been using it with the laptop we've got."

"Wait a minute," Jim leaned forward. "You brought a computer _here_?"

"There's no need to worry," Krel shrugged. "The program prevents anyone from seeing your location, or even what you're doing. It's an invisible safety net."

Jim took a moment to think."You sure it works?"

"It worked well enough for the League."

"Seamus runs all the computer tech," He said. "He could use a partner."

Krel opened his mouth to respond, but hesitated. His ears went bright pink.

"Only if you're up for it," Jim blurted.

Krel shook his head, regaining his composure with a grin. "Of course I'm up for it."

"He's usually in the library, last room in this tunnel," Jim said, pointing out the direction. "Clap before you enter, bring whatever laptop you've got, and tell him I sent you."

Giving a single nod, Krel pivoted on his heel and headed back to our cabin to retrieve Papa's computer. The pink still hadn't faded from his ears.

"So, Aja," Jim took a step toward me. "About your job, I've only blocked you out for half the day."

My brows drew together. "I can pull my own weight."

"Oh, no!" He waved his hand in front of him. "No, that's not what I meant at all. I just thought you might want to train with Seamus daily instead, like, once a week."

I blinked. "Really?"

"Of course," He replied. "I remember how scary it was not being able to control what I could do. I wouldn't wish that on anyone."

"I know what you mean," I looked back up at him. "Thank you."

"No problem," He shrugged. "You'll still have your jobs to do, but your shifts will end at noon rather than five. I've already talked to Seamus about it and he's cool with it. Especially now that he's got Krel helping him."

"Lively," I beamed. "What do you want me to do?"

Another shadow fell over his face. His shoulders slumped a little, like a real weight had been placed there. "About that," He said. "Come on, it's easier if I show you."

I followed him through a separate tunnel branching off from the room. It lead us to a wire staircase, the grates shuddering under the weight of our feet. The steps put us in front of a small door - like an actual door. Not a hole in the wall covered with a curtain. It had three locks on it.

Jim produced a key from his pocket, undoing the latches. "You might want to keep quiet," He said over his shoulder. "She's probably still asleep."

The door opened, revealing a small room behind it, dimly lit using a string of Christmas lights. It reminded me of an attic. Small. Slanted ceiling. And the smell of dust in the air.

The only two things in there was a ratty loveseat pushed against the far wall and a bed adjacent to it. It was just as homemade as the bunks were, but curtained with a violet blanket to cover whoever lay there. Beside it was a small nightstand, the surface of it spread with water bottles, colorful pills, and clean rags. There was a throw up bowl next to it.

I shot Jim a questioning look, but he was too distracted with the sleeping person to catch it. He crept towards the bed, kneeling beside it and gently pulling the covers back. It was a girl, sprawled against the sheets with her eyes pinched closed and her hair fanned out on the pillow.

"Claire?" Jim ran a gentle hand over her hair. "Claire, can you open your eyes?"

Her face tensed, her eyebrows drawing together.

'Claire', I mouthed. The Blue that had busted through a wall to save her friends. Is this what that had done to her?

_It was close, but Claire's tough._

"Aja," Jim craned his neck to look at me. "Can you wet one of those rags for me?"

I nodded, grabbing a bottle and unscrewing the cap. I tipped the water unto the rag until it was wet enough to count as damp. When I passed it to Jim, he pressed it against Claire's forehead, smoothing it over her encrusted eyes.

She took a sharp breath through her nose, her eyes peeling open. They were red and swollen, her face pale and almost gaunt. Her lips were chapped. Her ears were red from her own body heat. And the tip of her nose was raw.

She blinked a few times, her eyes darting around the room cluelessly. Like she had no idea where she was.

"Aja," Jim pointed to a switch on the wall. "The lights."

Flipping the switch, I looked up to see the whole network of Christmas lights blink on, bathing the room in crisp, golden light.

Claire's eyes refocused, her head shifting to look at Jim. There was a bright white streak in her hair.

"Hey," Jim said, brushing her hair away from her face. "I've got someone for you to meet."

I don't even know if she heard him. She just kept staring at his face, like she couldn't really recognize it. He slid his hand behind her back, easing her into a sitting position. Her chin lifted, but the rest of her body sagged against Jim.

I took a step closer, kneeling so I would be eye-level with her. "Hi."

"This is Aja. She went to school with us in Arcadia for a while. Do you remember her?"

I was surprised she could remember her own name let alone some girl in her drama class five years ago.

It took a moment, but her eyes shifted to my face, as if it took real effort to control them. She spent a solid ten seconds just staring, the same way she'd stared at Jim. Like she was trying to recognize me, but couldn't.

Her arm lifted, her hand trembling with either cold or exhaustion, I'm not sure. She pressed her index finger between her brows, not taking her eyes off me for a second.

My breath caught in my throat. A self-conscious hand ran through my hair, ducking my head.

"Pretty." Her voice was much clearer than I had expected.

Her hand moved to the white streak in her hair, her finger hooking around it. "Pretty." She repeated. Then her eyes rolled back and her head gently fell against Jim's shoulder.

"What's wrong with her?" I whispered.

Jim eased her back onto the sheets, tenderly pulling the blanket back up to her shoulders. "We don't know."

"I'm so sorry."

"After what she did at Caledonia," He brushed a hand against her cheek. "She's never been the same. Something in her brain, we don't know what - or how - but I think she strained it," He shook his head. "I don't know how to explain it."

"Is she always like this?"

"No," He sighed. "Thank God. Nights and mornings are the worst, she's usually fine for the rest of the day."

"What happens at night?"

"Seizures, night terrors, illusions," He gave a humorless, tortured laugh. "Sometimes she doesn't even know who she is."

"How awful," I whispered.

"Blinky's really good with watching her at night," Jim said. "Tobes and I usually stay with her in the mornings, but . . . things have been getting so crazy," He glanced at me. "I was hoping you could fill in for us."

"Of course, I - I'd love to help but," I looked down at my hands. "Are you sure this is the best idea? For me?"

"That's another thing," He said. "Seamus has tried to help her, but she's too blocked for him to get in. Oranges have no effect on her."

I glanced at Claire's sleeping form. Was that even possible?

"I understand if you don't want to," Jim turned to me. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable or overwhelmed -"

"No, I -" I held up my hands. "I'd be happy to help. I just - I'm not sure I'm qualified."

"Neither am I," He chuckled. "She just needs someone to sit with her, make sure she doesn't hurt herself or . . ."

For the first time, I noticed the scratches all up Claire's arms. Even around her neck.

I rested my hand on his shoulder. "I can do that."

He smiled at me. "Thank you, Aja."

I patted his shoulder, smiling back.

"Well," He looked back at Claire. "You don't need to do anything other than sit with her for now. Blinky leaves some books over in the corner if you get bored enough. If she starts talking, try to talk back - and make sure she can see you. If her nose bleeds, there are some tissues over there. If she starts choking, turn her on her side, she can usually clear herself out like that . . ."

I wondered if he realized how much he was rambling.

"And if you need anything, you can always come find me -"

"I got it," I said. "Really, don't worry."

"Right," He nodded a few times. "Of course, um, but seriously, if you do need anything -"

"I'll get you," I finished. "I got it."

It took a little bit of coaxing, but Jim finally stood from the bed and walked out of the door. I laughed a little once he disappeared. The way he looked at her. The way he touched her. How he could barely stand to leave her side.

The boy had it _bad_.

I spent the first half of the morning stretched out on the loveseat, one of Blinky's books on my lap. Jim wasn't kidding when he said I'd have to be bored enough to read them. They were like textbooks, something about Da Vinci and how to build airplanes. One of them went ridiculously deep into european history. And I'm pretty sure another one was just the whole constitution in book form.

After banging my head against the Da Vinci book a few times, I decided to get up and move. I started with push ups, remembering the form Varvatos had taught me. I could almost feel his hand resting on my back, reminding me to keep it straight.

I got five in before I collapsed.

Five. Damn. Push ups.

My arms were burning, my core aching. But that was nothing compared the cleave in my chest. How the disappointment hollowed me out.

Suddenly all I could see was the push up competitions I would destroy Krel in. I remembered the video Mama took with nine year-old me doing push ups with Krel sitting on my back. I remembered doing pull ups on a stray pipe in the middle of biology because I was bored. I was able to do twenty before the teacher pulled me off the bar.

I remembered being on every sports team under the sun, the rush that came from a game. I remembered running a mile in five minutes. I remembered the feeling all of it gave me, the adrenaline that came from running and jumping. Laughing and shouting and looking for a new way to score. How strong it made me feel.

Now to sit here, barely able to do five damn push ups. To be reminded of everything Thurmond had taken from me. Of being thrown in a cage and left to waste away. It was like having a wound that wouldn't stop reopening.

Shannon used to tell me I was strong. I never believed her.

Claire made a noise.

I forced myself up on my knees, glancing at her. I wouldn't call the noise a word, per se. It was more like a little grunt. Like she was in pain. I kept an eye on her for a moment more, making sure she stayed asleep.

When she didn't move, I went right back into position.

I made it to three this time, catching myself on my knee to keep from face planting in the dirt. Onwards and upwards, Aja.

I kept it a steady rhythm with three. Three reps and then ten seconds of rest on my knee. I don't even know how long I kept that up. Forcing myself to keep going. My face reddening. Sweat plastering my shirt to my back. My lungs felt raw in my chest. My arms felt like they were on fire.

And somehow, I was still giggling between reps.

Claire was looking at me.

I froze mid-rep, my elbows giving out and me more or less flopping onto the dirt. The stamp on my chest knocked the wind right out of me.

When I raised my head, she was still looking at me. Her face relaxed, still sitting in the same position Jim had left her in, just with open eyes. She blinked at me. I blinked back.

I gave her a small wave. "Hi."

"Why'd you stop?" Her voice was more drowsy than anything. Almost like she was talking in her sleep.

"Well . . . do you need anything?"

"No," She said. "Keep going."

So I did.

I continued with push ups for a bit longer before transitioning to sit ups. My arms felt like noodles, so I focused my strength into my core, telling myself I could do at _least_ a dozen crunches. I barely made it through ten before the room started spinning, but I kept at it.

And Claire just watched. Perfectly still. Perfectly silent.

I continued asking if she needed anything between reps and during rest periods. "No" is all she would say. Not shaking her head. Not frowning or rolling her eyes. Just "no".

I was finishing another ten reps of crunches when she finally said something else.

"Can you do a handstand?"

I dropped my back against the floor with a grunt, taking a moment to catch my breath again. "Huh?"

"Can you do a handstand?" She repeated.

I pried myself up onto my noodle arms, my elbows literally trembling from exhaustion. "I don't know. Can you?"

"Yes."

"Lively."

"Do it."

I blinked. "What?"

She actually sat up this time, making me lean back in surprise. "Do a handstand."

After the few seconds it took to snap myself out of shock, I shrugged. "Okay."

Rising to my feet, I strode over to the wall. I'd done a handstand before, dozens of times before. But, that was when I was in kindergarten. Ten years ago. I could still remember enough that you're supposed to start off against a wall, so I bent down and put my palms flat on the ground, stretching my legs out behind me.

I kicked up a few times to get the feel of it. My noodle arms were trembling, but it was easier to keep my elbows locked when I used my body weight. I kicked off a final time, feeling my back hit the wall as my shoes bumped together.

My legs waved back and forth a few times, making me grit my teeth as I steadied myself. I was still rickety, pain shooting through my palms from the pressure. But I was holding it. I did it.

I did a handstand.

A giggle burst from my throat, my stomach bouncing and throwing off my weight yet again. I shifted my hands a few times, feeling myself begin to rock. But the more I shifted, the more I realized how easy it was to do one hand at a time.

Rocking onto my left hand a final time, I decided to go for it and took my right hand off the ground. I had to spread my legs a little, holding my right arm out in a way that put my body in a star shape.

I held it for all of three seconds before I came crashing down again, but I sat up laughing anyway.

"You're really red," Claire said.

"You're really pale."

She smiled. "I like you."

I brushed a lock of hair behind my ear. "Thanks."

"Can I have some water?"

Pushing myself up, I grabbed one of the bottles and unscrewed it for her. She was too weak to hold it herself, so I sat on the edge of the bed to help her.

"You're new here." It wasn't a question.

"Yes."

"Jim must like you, too," She said. "If he brought you here."

"I guess," I replied. "He seems pretty lively."

"I'm glad he's alive, too."

I snickered, replacing the water bottle on the nightstand. Now I know how Krel feels.

She laid back on her pillow, her eyes staring blankly at the wall. As if it took too much effort to close them.

I moved over to the loveseat again, stretching out my sore muscles. I was sweaty, exhausted, and completely out of breath. Not to mention how stuffy the room felt now. I lay on my back, just taking a moment to let my heart rate go back down to normal.

It felt so nice to just sit there. No one to run from. No one to run to. Nothing to worry about. It made me wonder how long it had been since I'd done this. Since I'd taken a moment to sit and feel my heart beat in my chest.

A small movement caught my eye. Turning my head, I watched Claire as she opened and closed her hand, staring at her fingers as they twitched. It looked like it took all over her energy to do just that.

After moving both of her hands, she began lifting her arms. Bending the elbows. Rolling her shoulders. Like she was trying to wake up the rest of her body.

I slid off the couch, slipping my hand behind her back and easing her up the way Jim had. She had me sit her up and lay her back down a few times, until she could do it herself. Then she bent both of her knees. Rolled her ankles. Clenched her toes. And finally, swung her legs over the side of the bed.

One hand on my elbow, she tugged herself up, testing her balance. It took a few tries, getting her up from the bed and then lowering her back down. But eventually, she managed to keep her feet steady enough to walk.

Once she could do that, it was like her entire body had reanimated itself. Like she was brought back to life. Her eyes were wide and alert. She wasn't looking through a haze anymore, clearly aware of her surroundings. Her movements were sluggish at first, but they were purposeful. And then they weren't sluggish at all.

It was like watching someone rise from the dead.

"Sorry but," She turned to look at me as she pulled her hand from my arm. "You didn't already tell me your name, did you?"

I giggled. "It's Aja."

"Oh," She studied me for a moment, her eyes clearly avoiding the brand between my brows. "You look familiar."

"I was in your drama class in, like, seventh grade."

She snapped her fingers, the movement clean and sharp. "That's right. I do remember you."

I nodded, watching her shift her weight from foot to foot. Like she couldn't wait to get out in the open.

Looping my arm through hers, we paced the length of the room together, letting her legs get used to the movement.

"So," I said. "What do you do when you're not . . . here?"

She perked up a little. "Actually, I help teach the younger kids."

"Really?"

"Yeah," She beamed. "Me and some of the older kids, we try to pass on what we remember from school."

"Whoa," I replied. "I wouldn't have even thought of that."

"The boys wouldn't have either," She flipped her hair over her shoulder. "Not to brag or anything."

We were laughing as we paced when Jim knocked on the door. "Come in!" Claire called.

I looked at her for a moment, marveling at how put together she looked. Her back was straight. Her chin was raised. She looked completely fine. More so even. And not three hours ago, she might as well have been catatonic.

Jim's face instantly brightened when he saw Claire, and so did hers. Before either of them said anything, he strode over and wrapped her in his arms, holding her tightly against him. It was just a hug, but it was intimate enough to make me look away.

"Everything go okay?" Jim asked when they finally parted.

Claire nodded for me, smiling brightly. Jim glanced over at me anyway.

"I guess I didn't get _too_ bored."

He smiled. "Good."

"You go ahead," Claire laid a hand his shoulder. "I'll get my armor and meet you down there."

He turned with a nod, his steps echoing on the grated steps. Claire pivoted back, swerving passed me to pull a folded mound of car parts out from under her bed. But instead of silver or orange, hers were bright purple.

I expected her to need help slipping on the different plates and locking them into place, but she didn't. It was just like Jim said. _She's fine the rest of the time._

How strange.

"It was good to see you again, Aja," Claire said, turning towards the door.

"Likewise," I replied.

"Oh," She turned back. "And your scar? It really is pretty. Just like mine is." She gave the white streak in her hair a tug, and then disappeared down the stairs.

She might as well have hit me with a stun gun.

I was so shocked, I spent a solid minute and a half just staring out the doorway, frozen in place. Slowly, I felt myself come back up to the surface. Something in my chest gradually grew warm. And I found myself smiling.

I reached up to touch the ridge on my forehead. Pretty, huh?

Seamus's steps were loud and clunky on the stairs, nearly making me jump when his form swung in front of the doorway. "What are you still doing up here?" He asked. "We've got work to do."

I laughed a little to myself, the feeling of being ready returning.

"Yes," I replied. "We do."


	27. 27

**Most Disputes Die And No One Shoots**

**(A/N): i'm not above hamilton ****references either**

Seamus had his own cabin.

Well, I guess _technically_ he didn't. But his roommates had 'gone tribal' several days before then.

"Gone tribal?" I climbed up to sit on the spare bunk. "What does that mean?"

"They split off," Seamus sat down on his own bed. "Thought they might know where their families were or whatever."

"So Jim just let them go?"

"He may seem intimidating, but the guy's just a giant softy," Seamus said. "Besides, there are certain rules you have to follow. You have to leave with at least five people, you can't tell anyone about Trollmarket unless it's to a kid in need - and even then you can only reveal the clue."

"Lively," I leaned back on my palms, kicking my legs over the edge of the bed. "So you've had your own cabin since?"

"Pretty much," He said. "I figure it'll be the perfect place for us to practice."

"Where do we start?"

"First things first," He clapped his hands. "Getting you under control. Come down here and sit across from me."

Hopping down, I stepped across the rug made from grocery bags and sat cross legged at the edge of his bed. "You mean we're doing what we did last night?"

"Yes," He held out his hands for mine, helping me unwrap the bandages. "Controlling when and how you get into another person's head is definitely first priority."

"Please tell me you have ice packs in here."

"Under the bed."

"Really?"

"I'm an Orange," He said. "Yes, really."

The first thing we did was just a revisiting of last night. Seamus instructed me to put as much mental distance between me and him, and then took my hand. That time, the sensation was different. It was like I was in front of a door, pushing all my weight onto it to keep someone from getting in the room. That someone being Seamus.

For a moment, there was almost a struggle. I dug in my heels and kept the door between us to shut, pain exploding behind my eyes. I almost thought I had a fighting chance, before the pain crashed through like a wave and the door flew open.

It felt like putting my head through drywall, but I managed to untangle our minds enough for me to pull away.

"Here," Seamus grabbed a box of tissues off his dresser for my bloody nose. "I find it's better if you stanch under your nose rather than pinching."

"Thanks," I muttered, a sledgehammer going against my skull.

"Fifteen minute ice pack break," He said, tossing me one. "Then we'll continue."

I pressed it against my hairline, my arms becoming noodles again. "Can I ask you something?"

"Don't see why not."

"Do you," I twisted my lips to the side. "Do you remember what happened? Between us, I mean?"

It took a moment for him to erase the blush on his face. And a moment more for him to string together an answer. "Not into beating around the bush, are you?"

"Well," I tilted my head from side to side. "Not when it comes to my brother."

"Protective, I see."

"What can I say?" I shrugged. "It's what big sisters do."

"The answer to your question is yes," He said. "Of course I remember what happened. It was probably the last normal-ish thing that happened to me before everything went to hell."

"Normal-ish?"

"You did meet my dad," He raised an eyebrow. "Right?"

I squinted to bring back the memory. The man was short, broad, and loud. I remember his white mustache and his glaring eyes. I remember him parading up and down the principles office while Krel and I were forced to sit and listen to his endless rants.

"That Tarron boy is cheating!" He had shouted. "It's obvious. Everyone knows that people like him are terrible at math!"

The one thing I couldn't remember was what it was over. A test? A quiz? Something like that. Krel had stolen Seamus's star spot at the top of Ms. Janeth's math class by the end of our first week in Arcadia. At first, it was just Seamus that hated us, him and Krel getting into a few one-sided arguments.

Then his father decided to step in.

"No Latino should beat my Seamus," He had said.

I was ready to wring his neck for all his comments, but Varvatos beat me to it.

"You insult Varvatos's grandson's skin one more time, and Varvatos will make your skin into kitchen drapes!"

We finally agreed to settle the cheating accusations with a math duel. Whoever won got the one perfect grade Ms. Janeth would give out. We'd seen Seamus and his father later that day by their car, Seamus getting the scolding of a lifetime.

"You wanna keep losing to someone like _that_, you can forget about space camp!"

Put simply, Krel's heartstrings had been pulled.

The next afternoon, on the last question of the duel, Krel had gotten the right answer - I saw it. Seamus did too. But at the last minute, we both watched him erase it. Because of it, Seamus won the duel by one point.

Krel told me later about how Seamus had confronted him. How he'd demanded to know why Krel had thrown the duel.

"I told him it was because I wanted him to go to space camp, and he called me weird, but then," Krel had beamed, "he said I was okay."

The whole ordeal had ended with no hard feelings between Seamus and Krel. It wasn't really my ordeal to begin with, so I had tried to let it go. Which wasn't easy, considering anytime Mr. Johnson saw me after that, he'd demand to know if Krel was really my brother, why was his skin so much darker than mine?

But again. It was five years ago. Might as well sort out whatever's left of it now.

"I feel like I should apologize," Seamus rubbed the back of his neck shyly. "It was pretty . . . inconsiderate."

I raised an eyebrow. "Inconsiderate?"

"It was rude," Seamus corrected. "And cruel and completely unfair. I'm mortified just talking about it, honestly."

"Have you talked to Krel about it?"

He blushed again. ". . . Not really."

"What does that mean?"

"It means no," He said. "But it's definitely been an elephant in the room."

"Well, apology accepted - even though I'm not the one you should be apologizing to."

"I know," He ducked his head. "I'll pass it on to him tomorrow."

"You guys didn't end with any hard feelings, did you?" I asked. "I mean, from what Krel told me . . ."

"I guess we didn't," He shrugged. "But I should probably apologize anyway, on behalf of my dad at least. Besides, I do kinda owe him, for what he did in the math duel."

I tilted my head. "Did you even get to go to space camp? With Psi happening?"

"No," He replied. "But . . . still."

I wondered what Krel thought of all this. If he just wanted to forget any of it happened, or if he had something to say about it too.

"You ready to continue?"

I lowered the ice pack, accepting the change in subject.

"Let's do this."

We spent the rest of the afternoon practicing like that. Seamus taking my hand and me desperately trying to close a wall between us. After a while, Seamus suggested I try other methods. Like imagining a curtain instead of a wall. The door thing again.

"There are a million ways into someone's head," He said. "There are a million ways out of it too."

But it didn't seem to matter. Whatever I did, how hard I imagined a barrier, it was still just imaginary. And Seamus was able to cut right through it. By the time I'd stumbled back to my cabin, my nose was as raw as Claire's from all the nosebleeds. And my head felt like it had been cracked open.

Steve came in a few minutes after I did, flopping onto his bunk and looking every bit as exhausted as I was. Eli came in with Krel, his hands black with grime as Krel demonstrated a technique with a rubik's cube he'd no doubt gotten from Seamus.

"You two look dead," Eli commented.

"What a coincidence," I said into my pillow. "That's exactly how I feel."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" Krel asked. "With the whole 'mind power training'?"

I let out a frustrated groan. "I suck at being Orange."

"You've just started learning," Eli said. "You can't expect yourself to get it right away."

"Watch me."

Krel sat beside me, taking the ice pack from my hand and holding it over my head for me. "So what if you didn't get it today? You will eventually."

I groaned again.

"What about you?" Krel looked over at Steve. "Why are you so beat?"

"Scavenging isn't easy," He mumbled.

"At least you didn't find any _poisonous snakes_ out there."

Steve threw him a glare.

"I wouldn't mind finding kinky snakes out there," I snickered.

Steve buried his face in his pillow. "You guys are never gonna let that go, are you?"

"You mean letting all your dumbass decisions go?" Eli scoffed. "Where's the fun in that?"


	28. 28

***Epic Montage Music***

**(A/N): ya'll better take a deep breath cause this is gonna be a long one**

We ended up staying at Trollmarket for the rest of the spring and well into the summer. And it was every bit the adventure our last five month trip had been.

I spent my mornings with Claire, working on my push ups. Sit ups. Stretching. The works. Two weeks in, Claire mentioned my 'extracurriculars' to Jim and he got Eli to install a pull up bar. Eli had glared at me on his way out. "You better not hang yourself on it," He muttered.

I glanced at him over my shoulder. "What a ray of sunshine you are today."

"Shut up."

One morning, Claire was feeling better than normal and challenged me to spar her. It was honestly the most fun I'd had in weeks. Old muscle memory started pouring back into my brain, reflexes I thought I'd long forgotten kicking back in. I was sore beyond belief for the rest of the week, but it was totally worth it.

Even when she wasn't feeling better than normal, Claire still watched me until she was. It was weird having an audience while trying to work out, but it's not like there was anything else to do in that room.

"It's like waking up under water," She told me one day. "And you can't breathe or move or think, you just have to wait for yourself to float to the surface. And . . . and it hurts."

Every hour or so, she would ask me to do something specific. Like the handstand thing. I did a dozen cartwheels. Several backbends. And like a million different ways to do the splits.

One day she asked me to do a backflip, and long story short, I almost dislocated my shoulder and Jim recommended I stop taking suggestions from Claire while she's too hazy to recognize her own name.

I kept doing the damn backflip anyway, determined to get it right. And like, a million and one bruises later, I finally did.

Of course, that wasn't the only training I was getting. Thought it was the only training I was actually good at.

Go figure.

Seamus and I were doing the blocking exercises for weeks before I was finally able to shut him out. It happened just like he said, slowly and surely. With painstaking practice. And I'm not exaggerating the pain part. I started carrying a bottle of aspirin on me at all times, just to keep the migraines under control.

"They'll go away eventually," Seamus said. "Not as soon as you'd like, but you know, eventually."

Working with my abilities actually wasn't too different from working with my muscles. It hurt, and I was sore in ways I didn't even know I could be. But eventually, I started feeling my strength build up. Pushing the door closed became easier. I was able to keep up the struggle for longer and longer each time. The wall between us became more and more detailed the more time I spent fleshing it out.

When I'd finally done it, I almost didn't even realize I had. I was just holding up the wall, pouring my energy into shoving him away. Then I felt his hand pull away from mine.

"What?" I asked.

Seamus was grinning. "Do you know what just happened?"

I leaned back. "No . . ."

"I was holding your hand for five minutes," He said. "And you didn't get into my head. Not even once."

I looked down at my hands in awe. "You mean . . . I did it?"

He gave me a proud smile, nodding.

A laugh bubbled up from my throat, and as exhausted as I was, it lasted for almost ten minutes. "I did it!" I pumped my fists in the air. "Yes!"

After that, we worked on the block becoming second nature, me only entering someone's mind when I wanted to. That mostly consisted of Seamus and I talking, then him grabbing my hands at random, and me having to keep up the conversation while still blocking him out.

The first time we tried it, I passed out.

It was a work in progress.

Once I'd mastered that, it literally became my homework to touch people. "At least ten a day," Seamus said. "Accidental or not, it doesn't really matter. You just need to get used to physical contact again."

At first I was petrified. Touching another Orange was one thing. I couldn't hurt him. But anyone else? It was like walking back onto a minefield.

I was trying to explain it to the boys at dinner one night when Krel slammed his hand flat against my face mid sentence, knocking me right off the bench.

"Seems easy to me," He said. "There's one."

I got to my feet, locking Krel in a choke hold and scrubbing my knuckles against his scalp. "Oh look!" I said over his cries. "Here's two!"

But it's not like Seamus was wrong when he said it would be good for me. It was. To let my palm hit Eli's when I handed him his tools. To put my cheek against Steve's ear when I hugged him. To roll up my sleeves without care. All the little things I didn't even know I'd been missing.

But I wasn't the only one getting trained.

The majority of kids at Trollmarket were either Blue or Green. Seamus and I were the only Oranges. Jim was the only Red. But Krel wasn't the only Yellow.

There were somewhere around ten or fifteen others, fairly tight knit with each other. They welcomed Krel into their little clique instantly, and even though he spent most of his time working with the computers, he did learn a thing or two from them.

Lesson one: Lose the gloves.

"The League never let you take them off?" I asked one night. "What about other Yellows?"

"Let's just say I was a special case," He replied.

He was coaxed into taking them off every once in a while, even when he worked with the equipment. And he never fried a single computer. Eventually, he started taking them off on his own, especially when Seamus started encouraging it.

"How are you and Seamus doing anyway?" I asked him at breakfast.

His face instantly flushed, but he quickly shook it off. "What are you talking about? We're fine. What kind of question is that anyway?"

"Yeesh," Eli shot him a glance. "Touch-y."

Krel's shoulders relaxed again. "No, I'm not."

"Your face is literally the color of a potato," Steve said through his food.

"My face is always the color of a potato."

"No it's not. I would've noticed if you were always blushing this hard."

Eli pinched the bridge of his nose. "That's a tomato, Steve."

"Oh yeah."

Krel's defensiveness made me curious, but he'd clammed up for the rest of the morning. So that afternoon, I decided to ask Seamus the same question.

He looked up in surprise more than anything, just a hint of color in his ears. "I haven't . . . said anything my dad would, if that's what you mean."

"Oh no," I shook my head. "Not like that. More like, are you guys friends?"

He squinted at me. "Why are you so curious?"

"Protective older sister," I jabbed a finger at myself. "What do you expect?"

"Yes, we're friends," He said. "Can we just get to work now?"

I started paying more attention to how they behaved around each other, call it an older sibling instinct. How their whole demeanor changed as soon as they saw each other. How Krel spoke softer. How Seamus's ears would go pink, just for a second, if Krel ever stepped too close.

I even noticed how Seamus would relentlessly tap on things whenever Krel was around. Almost compulsively. I thought it _was_ something compulsive at first, like a tick. But the only person he would ever do it around was Krel. Whether it was a pen against a computer monitor. His fingers on the desk. Hitting the spacebar on a busted keyboard three times. He was always doing it - and it was always in increments of three.

_One, two, three . . ._

_Tap, tap, tap . . ._

_Click, click, click . . ._

Whatever it was.

Once he laid a hand on Krel's shoulder while the two were working, and squeezed it three definitive times. I saw Krel glance back at him, expecting Seamus wanted his attention for something. But Seamus just ripped his hand away, his ears burning as he blurted out an apology.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to do that. Wasn't thinking."

It was painfully obvious they had a thing for each other.

But finding hard evidence wasn't easy. They spent most of their time alone in Seamus's library, working to keep electricity and running water in Trollmarket. Even using their resources to help a few kids track down their parents, Eli included.

The boy had tears in his eyes when Krel finally gave him the green light to contact his parents. It was a simple message, an encoded essay on Victor Hugo's _Les Miserables_, telling them he was out of Caledonia, he was safe, and that he couldn't wait to see them again.

And as much as Steve denies it, I know it made him misty-eyed too.

We all went up to the surface that night to celebrate. Jim always made sure kids had time at least once every few days to go back up to ground level, preferably at night. It was usually only a few at a time, going out in shifts for fresh air. So the four of us were able to sneak up and look at the stars.

Eli made it a few hours before his 'side effect' kicked in, his feet refusing to keep him upright. We were on our way back, Eli draped over Steve's shoulder, when we ran into Seamus. He had a telescope over his shoulder.

"I could use some help setting it up," He gave Krel a pointed look, his ears pink. "It wouldn't take very long - if you wouldn't mind -"

"Yes," Krel blurted, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I mean no - I mean, I - I could, uh, help you with that."

So Steve and I ended up helping Eli back to his bunk on our own. When Krel didn't come back for a while, I went up to check on him. I found him and Seamus in a small clearing of trees, the telescope between them aimed at the sky. They didn't even notice me in the treeline, too absorbed in their quiet conversation. Something about space 'being nice'.

It took me a moment to see in the dark, but their hands were joined in the grass, just as naturally as the way they were looking at the sky. Just as content. I even saw Seamus give Krel's hand three squeezes.

I smiled to myself as I backed away from the scene.

Called it.

"So how was your date last night?" I said to Krel the next day. "You make it to second base?"

Krel's face went beat red, his eyes wide and the rest of him stiff as a board. The rubik's cube he'd been holding clanged to the floor. _"W-what?"_

"You know," I laid on my stomach, kicking my feet. "You and Seamus. A really crappy telescope. A romantic night under the stars. Any of this ringing a bell?"

Krel flushed an even deeper red, furious.

"For your information," He snapped. "We are just friends. And besides, it's not like - I'm not - and he wasn't - it's not like -"

I put my chin in my hand. "Hm?"

He whipped around, pretending to look for something in his dresser drawers. "We are just _friends."_

"Just making sure," I replied. "Especially since you haven't been wearing your rubbers lately . . ."

Without warning, he snatched his pillow off his bunk and tackled me, smacking the cushion against me.

"Okay! Okay!" I shrieked with laughter. "I take it back! Mercy! Uncle!"

But we kept pelting each other with the bedding anyway. It had been so long since we'd had a real pillow fight. And even longer since the both of us had laughed that hard.

Steve and Eli joined in about halfway through, walking in on the fight. Steve was into it right away, while Eli had to be pummeled over the head by Krel to finally grab his pillow.

By the time we'd smacked each other silly, our cabin was a mess of blankets, pillows, and stuffing. It took us a good hour and a half to clean it up, but it was more than worth it.

And as much as I teased him for it, seeing Krel without his gloves made me want to burst with pride. The only thing that made me prouder was when he started using his abilities for simple things. Like when Papa's laptop died and he tapped his fingers on the keyboard to charge it. Or when a few lights on the wall had gone out and he flicked them back to life.

Even the bruises started coming less and less.

One night, I was running a comb through his hair - since he absolutely refused to do it himself - and reached over to switch the light off, but he beat me to it. All Krel had to do was snap his fingers and the light bulb above us died.

All three of us stared at him for a solid three seconds afterwards.

He glanced back at us. ". . . What?"

I grinned to myself, shrugging as I continued combing. "Nothing."

If only my abilities came to me that easily.

I was good enough at blocking people out to start 'pulling at other strings', as Seamus put it.

"Now that you've got good enough control to touch people," He said. "I wanna see if we can take it a step further. It's one thing to keep from maneuvering someone else's mind, and completely another to keep someone else from maneuvering through yours."

"Okay," I leaned back on the bed. "How do we do that?"

"Think of something you don't want me to know," Seamus replied. "Something personal."

"Hm," I hummed. "Personal."

"Well yeah," He said. "Your mind already has natural defenses in place, but your abilities can make it a hundred times as strong. The most personal things are the easiest to start with. They enact the defenses that are already there, you just have to build off of them."

I ran my fingers through my hair, glancing away. "I don't know, Seamus -"

"Oh come on," He dropped his chin to his chest. "What's the worst I could see? Old, embarrassing stories that happened forever ago? I thought you loved challenges."

I raised an eyebrow. He just smirked. "Fine," I threw both hands out. "Bring it, Johnson."

The first time we tried, I thought of the time I did a backflip off my teacher's desk and flashed the whole class. I imagined the brick wall between us, shielding the memory from him. And that uncomfortable twinge the came along with it.

A full two seconds didn't pass before my wall evaporated.

Suddenly, I was scrambling to get the door shut between us. I was throwing my weight against it. I was digging my heels in, pressing the door into the jam with all of my strength. But all Seamus had to do was shove, and the opening blew wide open.

To add insult to injury, the exercise gave me a migraine.

"That was . . . okay-ish for your first try," Seamus said, passing me an ice pack. "But that's why we're practicing. You've got a lot of raw strength, Tarron. You'll get it."

I pressed the ice pack to my hairline. "Thanks."

"You wanna take a break?"

"Nah," I held out my free hand. "Let's go for round two."

The next couple weeks felt like I'd been shoved right back to square one. Seamus cut through my defenses like they were nothing but air. I'd strain and struggle with everything in me to keep the door closed, but he barely even had to try to get through.

He'd seen every embarrassing moment I could remember. The first time I cried at school and made everyone laugh. The time I threw up on the Secretary of State when he was meeting with Mama and Papa. The time Krel spilled orange juice on my pants and everyone thought I'd wet myself.

"C'mon, Tarron," Seamus groaned, pulling his hands away from mine after the millionth try. "We've been at this for how long?"

"I'm trying," I rubbed my forehead. "I swear, I am. Maybe if I just tried imagining -"

"No, that's not the problem," He shook his head. "The memories you're giving me aren't protected enough. I need something deeper."

"I've given you every embarrassing story I have!"

He lowered his eyebrows. "Okay, crying in class isn't exactly what I was looking for."

I threw up my hands. "Then what is?"

"I need something painful," He said. "No more of these dumb stories, think of something that makes you ache just to think about it. That makes you wish you could go back and have a do over. Something that you've never told anyone."

"I . . . I just . . ." I sighed, scrubbing my hands over my face. "_Ugh_."

"I know you're tired," His hand came over my shoulder. "And I know this is frustrating. But whatever it is, you can trust me."

I opened my mouth to reply, but nothing came out.

_Krel trusts me_, He said to my mind.

_Yes_, I replied. _But you and I both know that's different._

His ears went pink. I smirked.

_You thought I wouldn't notice?_

_I'm the one supposed to be getting into your head, _His mind guarded up._ Not the other way around, Tarron._

_Well you've certainly got Krel in your head._

Seamus narrowed his eyes. "Maybe we should call it a night."

"No," I laughed, holding out my arm to stop him from leaving. "No, I want to keep going."

His gaze didn't flinch. "So you're done teasing?"

"I make no promises."

He rolled his eyes.

"C'mon," I tugged his arm a little. "I . . . I want to try it. Just one more time."

His scowl faded, him lowering back onto the bed. "You sure?"

I took a deep breath. "I have to master this - all of it. I'm ready to do whatever it takes," I held out my hand. "Whatever it takes."

"You've got guts, Tarron," He took my hand. "I'll give you that."

As much as my mind begged me not to do it, I thought of Davaros. Instantly, the numbing, burning, pricking pain washed over my chest. The unfairness. The cruelty. The _bitterness_ -

Next thing I knew, I was throwing myself against the door, straining everything I had to keep Seamus out. Davaros was more than just my friend, she was my sister. She was more than just a story, she was a person. And Seamus had no business knowing her through me.

For a moment, I felt the door close. I felt it click shut. I felt Seamus disappear from my mind. Only for him to come crashing back like a wave. And the door burst open.

_No!_ My mind cried. I tore my hands away from his.

I glared my teary eyes into the sheets, Seamus's boring into me.

"Interesting," He finally said.

I didn't reply. I just got up from the bed and left the cabin.

By the time I'd gotten back to mine, the boys were already asleep in their bunks. I climbed onto my bed with shaking hands and weak knees, tears dripping from my eyes. It was like a dam had been opened in my mind. All the memories, all the pain, washing over me again and again until I thought it would consume me from the inside out.

I turned into my tear-soaked pillow, gasping under the weight on my chest. The last thing I remember before falling asleep, was the bitter taste of blood in my mouth.

I dreamt that I was back in Cabin 27. I dreamt that Davaros was in my arms again, coughing and shivering as she took her last few breaths. But just as her eyes went blank, something in her face changed. The thing that always changes in people's faces.

"You did something to me," She said.

_No_, I tried to say. But nothing would come out of my sticky throat. _No. No. No._

"You're different," She said. "You're not like us. You're not Green."

Suddenly, I was feeling Kubritz's baton crack against me, but Mary was the one holding it. I felt a wad of spit slap across my cheek, but Shannon was the one standing over me. I saw flashes of green uniforms. I saw my fingers bleeding as they scratched endless amounts of 'Ws' into my bunk.

I saw the look Mary and Shannon had given me when they realized what I was. I saw the bars of the dog cage and felt myself cramped and pinched inside of it. And I saw Davaros, her hand still clenched around mine as she leaned away from me.

"You're not like us," She said. "You're a monster."

Cold water slapped against my face, making me gasp as I bolted up. My heart was beating in my throat. Tears were stinging my cheeks raw. My hands were sweaty and trembling as I flung them out to the bed, trying to steady myself. Why was everything spinning?

"It's okay, it's okay," Krel's voice said, a hand touching my arm.

I wrenched away from it, smashing myself up against the wall to escape. The bite of pain finally shook me back into reality.

I was in my cabin. In my _Trollmarket_ cabin. All three boys were gathered around my bunk, their eyes laced with wary concern. Eli was holding an empty water bottle.

My hand went over my racing heart, my chest heaving for air. Why was there a sob in my throat? Why couldn't I stop shaking?

"What . . ." I swallowed. "What happened?"

"You were screaming," Steve whispered, his voice hoarse. "We couldn't wake you up."

"You had a nightmare," Krel's hand was on my shoulder again, no hesitation. "But it's over now. You're okay."

A nightmare? What time was it? I looked out to see the neon lights were dimmed, the way Seamus and Krel had them set during the night.

"Who's Davaros?"

My eyes snapped towards Eli. ". . . What?"

"Davaros," He repeated. God, just hearing it was like a knife to the chest. "You kept saying that name. Who is it?"

There were a thousand knives in me. A thousand weights on me. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think.

Steve reached for me. "Aja -?"

"I need some air," I blurted, and then bolted for the door.

They called out after me, but I didn't care. I sprinted across the dirt floor, weaving between the cabins and dark tunnels. I didn't know where I was going. I could barely even _see_ where I was going. All I knew was that I had to get away.

Figures. Running away was all I knew how to do.

My foot caught something in the dark, pitching me forward and scraping my palms raw on the ground. I pushed myself up against the wall of the tunnel, pulling my knees to my chest and collapsing in a puddle of tears. I didn't even know why at this point.

"Aja?"

I lifted my head, seeing Jim standing there. He was holding a flashlight in one hand, and several sticks of celery in the other. He wasn't wearing his armor for once, just a pair of jeans and a blue jacket. His eyes were just as raw as mine. He'd been crying too.

"Jim?" I sniffled, scrubbing my hand under my nose. "What are you doing?"

He looked down at the celery sticks, then back up at me. "Come on," He aimed the flashlight up ahead. "I know a place -"

"I just want to be alone right now."

"I know," He said. "There's a good place to be alone up this way."

I didn't stand right away, but something in Jim's eyes convinced me. The heaviness of them. The empathy. And the rawness left behind by dozens of tears he never let anyone see.

My body felt hollow as I stood, almost like it wasn't even mine. I followed his flashlight beam down the tunnel anyway, shivering the whole way even though I wasn't cold.

The tunnel spat us out at a warmly lit room - a kitchen. Not the bigger, makeshift kitchen in the tunnel everyone ate in. It was just as homemade looking, but it was simpler. Quieter. Completely secluded as Jim pinned the curtain over the doorway.

The smell of garlic and butter wafted through the room, drawing my eyes to the pot of simmering soup on the stove. Beside it was a cutting board, still damp from use.

I lowered myself onto a bench adjacent to the counter. "Did you build this place?"

"Blinky and I did," He said, laying the celery on the cutting board.

Just by the way he held the knife, I could tell he knew what he was doing. The control of his wrist. The constant speed he kept. No wonder he was so skilled with his sword. I'd seen him and Claire spar before, and he carried that same control with the weapon. Even though Claire still managed to best him with her staff.

I leaned back against the wall, tucking a knee under my chin. Neither one of us spoke for a while, just listening to the sound of a knife through celery. Enjoying the quiet. Jim was right. This was a good place to be alone.

Even though I wasn't technically alone.

He was the first one to start sniffling. At first I thought he was chopping onions, but when I saw him lower the knife, I knew it was something else. I opened my mouth to say something, but all that came out was more tears.

With a deep breath, he repositioned the knife and continued his mincing, emptying the board into the pot. Then his hands lowered to the sides of the pot, hovering over the metal as his palms took on a dark orange glow. The soup was slowly brought to a boil.

"Why - um," My throat ached. "Why are you making soup?"

"For Claire," His voice was just as raw. "And . . . everyone on the night shift."

"That's - that's really nice of you."

He shrugged.

I bit my lip, suddenly restraining a sob. Why was it like this? Like a damn rollercoaster. Wave after wave, a stupid cycle that never seemed to end.

"Here." Pulling a bowl from the cabinet, he spooned the creamy liquid into it and handed it to me, sitting beside me. "Careful. It's hot."

I raised the bowl to my lips. "It's good." More than good. More than delicious. To be honest, the real magic of Trollmarket was the food.

"Soup is always good for the soul."

"Hm."

"So," He sniffled again, wiping his raw face. "You wanna tell me why you're crying?"

I took another sip. "Why aren't I?"

He laughed, but it came out more of a sob. "I know, right?"

"Aren't you going to eat?"

His face paled a little. "Not hungry."

This time, I sniffled. "So, there a reason why _you're_ crying?"

He leaned against the wall. "Claire. She's just . . . it's only getting worse and there's nothing I can do. There's Tobes and Blinky and everything I have to do between them. And then . . . and then there's all these kids. And Vendal. And AAARRRGGHH!. And -"

He put his hand over his face, tears sliding down.

I put my hand on his knee. "Who is AAARRRGGHH!?"

"My friend," Jim croaked. "We - we had to leave him behind and - and it's all my fault. We lost him and it's - it's all my -" His voice dropped off.

I pinned my lips together. "I lost one of my friends too."

He glanced at me.

"She was in my cabin at Thurmond," I managed. "She got sick and I - I couldn't help her - and then she wanted me to hold her hand and I -" I bit my tongue. "And now she's gone."

It was the brushing of our arms that made me look up again - that made both of us look up again. My sleeves had been rolled up, revealing the splotchy scars I'd received from batons. The sleeves of Jim's jacket had been rolled up too, revealing a whole sea of scars across his skin. Scars from fine, clean cuts.

Torture.

We looked between our arms for a moment, almost like we were trading scars. The marks this world had left us with. When we locked eyes again, a strange understanding went between us. The understanding we always had.

"It's not fair," Jim summed up. "I know people say that. But it's different when you live it. This world . . . it's not survival of the fittest, it's survival of the luckiest."

I gave a humorless laugh. "No wonder I'm still alive."

"Huh?"

"Old family joke."

We stayed there for a while, crying and talking, laughing over how un-funny all of this was. I helped him carry the soup to the people on patrol, wishing him luck as he took a bowl up to Claire - whatever state she was in.

It was around three o'clock in the morning before I finally started making my way back to my cabin. I walked in to Krel and Steve sitting cross legged on the floor. Eli was slumped over in his bunk, but I knew he was awake too.

I didn't really know what to say as I stood there in the doorway. Maybe apologize for keeping them up? Apologize for running away? An explanation for all the worry I caused?

But before I could decide, Krel got to his feet and pulled me into a hug.

I felt tears threatening again, as if I hadn't cried enough already. "I'm sorry," I whispered.

"It's okay," He replied. "I knew you'd come back. You always come back after you run away."

I squeezed him harder.

"I want to talk about it," I said. "I think I'm ready to."

He squeezed me back. "Okay."

We sat in a circle, Eli turned on his side so he could see us. I told them everything, every nitty gritty detail I could remember. A part of me was relieved to get the story out, like taking a weight off my shoulders. But another part of me was reliving it instead.

By the time I'd finished, I'd been reduced to yet another puddle of tears. Krel and Steve instantly pulled me between them into a group hug. Eli stretched out his hand towards us.

"I'm hugging you with my brain," He said. And I laughed.

When we parted again, Eli continued talking, telling us about a friend he'd had in Caledonia - another victim of the experiments.

"I don't know what they did to him," He said. "And I'm not sure I want to. But I know what that's like - to watch someone slip away and there's nothing you can do."

Then Krel spoke up, recounting what had happened to his team and what the League was really hiding. Every time his voice broke, I gave his hand a squeeze. By then, we were all in tears. Hiccuping and sniffling as we sat in our weird circle around Eli's bunk.

"What about you?" I croaked to Steve. "Have you ever lost someone?"

"I already told you buttsnacks," He replied. "I don't do tragic backstories."

But I could tell he wanted to.

"Well, when you change your mind." I reached over, brushing his golden hair away from his eyes, feeling the way the ends curled. "Let us know."

The next week went by excruciatingly slow. I continued trying to block Seamus out, bringing back up all the agonizing memories my oh-so-lovely life had granted me. The dog cages at Thurmond. The daily beatings. When I received my brand. When I erased myself from my parent's minds.

Again, 'interesting' was his only comment.

I cried myself to sleep almost every night. It was like someone was picking open old wounds, making them fresh again. Swelling with tears and bleeding nightmares. Every night, the boys would sit beside me, holding me in the weirdest group hug imaginable. More often than not, they'd cry with me.

"You don't have to do this," Krel said to me one night, my head in his lap. "You can tell Seamus if it's too much for you."

"You don't understand," I whispered. "I _do_ have to do this."

"You're torturing yourself," Steve said, sat beside me. "This is, like, the epitome of PTSD."

"Actually," Eli picked his head up from where he was strewn out on his bunk. "PTSD is much more about feelings than reliving the actual memory -"

Steve silenced him with a glare.

"What? I'm just saying."

I just shook my head. "I can't just give up," I breathed. "I can't."

The day Seamus found out about 'Ty the troll', I couldn't even go back to my own cabin. I don't know how to put that kind of humiliation into words. I just couldn't face them. Not when I knew they'd pull me into another hug and coax out every ugly word, just to get it out of my system.

So I joined Jim in his secret kitchen instead, making meat sandwiches for everyone on the night shift. I should've known I wouldn't be able to slip under his radar.

"Aja, I get you want to master your abilities," He said. "But it takes patience. You can't just charge into the heat of battle -"

_"Argh,"_ I growled low in my throat, reaching for the doorway. I did not want to have this discussion.

"Wait," He caught my arm, pulling me back. "Please, just listen. I've been where you are."

"What are you talking about?" I snapped.

"When we were in Caledonia," His face deflated. "I thought I could take it on by myself. I thought I could do it on my own. I thought waiting was stupid and a waste of time. So I went into a place called the Darklands -"

"The Darklands?" Why did that sound so familiar?

"A testing ground for Reds," He said. "But it's not testing, it's . . . re-education."

My eyes widened with realization. I'd heard of that place. Where they sent Reds to make them into soldiers. 'Walking weapons'. The scars I'd seen on Jim's arms flashed in my mind.

Suddenly, I felt very sick.

"Thanks to Seamus and Claire and Tobes and, well, everyone, I was able to get out," Jim said. "But if I hadn't . . . a lot of people would've gotten hurt."

"Don't you get it?" I exploded. "People _have_ gotten hurt! By me! That's why I cannot be patient! I can't lose anyone else like that . . ." I dropped to my knees, my energy spent. I didn't have any more tears left in me. ". . . Ever again . . ."

Jim knelt before me. "You think I've never hurt anyone? That I've never _burned_ anyone?"

I didn't have much to say to that.

"You can't do this to yourself," He said. "Please, Aja, trust me. This isn't the way to do it."

I stood after that, turning on my heel and walking back to my cabin. The boys were all in their beds, but none of them were asleep. I laid on my bunk wordlessly, not even trusting myself to sleep.

"You're tired," Claire said to me the next morning. "You're very tired."

"Yes," I replied from where I was curled up on the loveseat. I hadn't done any reps that day.

"I'm tired," Claire muttered to herself. "I'm very tired."

That afternoon, I felt like a shell of myself as I sat on Seamus's bed. I could barely hear what he was saying my thoughts were screaming so loudly. For a moment, I was completely swallowed in static. Then Seamus's hand was waving in front of me.

I cringed, leaning away from him. "What?"

"Did you even get that?"

"Sure," I lied, holding out my hands. "Let's just get going -"

"No," He cut me off. "Obviously, you didn't. You know, you can tell me if it's too much. I know you want to figure this out, but you don't have to shoot yourself in the foot in the process."

"I'm fine," I assured him. "Can we just -"

"I think we both know that's a lie," Seamus raised an eyebrow. "Isn't it?"

I pursed my lips. "Krel's been talking to you."

"Of course he has," He shrugged. "We work together."

I lowered my eyebrows.

"But yes," Seamus sighed. "He's been mentioning some things about you and how rough your mind has been taking this."

"I said I'm _fine_ -"

"And I said that's a lie."

"If you interrupt me again, I swear to _God_ . . ."

"He's worried sick about you," Seamus spread his hands. "That's what I'm trying to say."

"Even more reason for me to get this down."

"No, not that at all," He replied. "We can move onto something else for now, come back to this when you've gotten stronger."

I shook my head. "I want to get this down."

"And you will," He said. "Just not today. You know, I never had to do this to master my powers. I just thought it would be a good exercise, and maybe it wasn't the best idea, but it's okay to take our time. To be a little patient?"

I glared at the floor. I was so sick of this conversation.

"If you're not gonna stop for yourself," Seamus put a hand on my shoulder. "Do it for Krel. You've given him at least three grey hairs in the past seven days alone."

I sighed.

"And he's not gonna stop nagging me until I convince you so . . ."

"Fine," I rolled my eyes in defeat. "Let's just start."

He gave me a tight nod, clasping his hands together. "Well, I think it would be a good time to start playing to your strengths."

"Like what?"

"You're actually pretty good at getting into people's heads," He said. "Like, _really_ good."

"Surprise, surprise."

"I wanna see if you could get into mine," He continued. "Basically the thing the we've been doing, just with the roles reversed. I'm going to hide something for you, and you try to get through my defenses."

"Whatever." I didn't care how snappy I sounded. It was twelve-thirty and I had already reached the end of my patience.

Damn irony.

"The mind . . . it's kinda like a filing cabinet," Seamus explained. "There are different drawers that organize thoughts, and files within them that hold memories and more specific things like that. It's a lot more organized than you think. But, I mean, not every mind is the same. Some people have all their drawers connected. And some people have something closer boxes instead of drawers since they keep their thoughts so separate."

"How nice."

"When you get into someone's head," He said. "It's much easier to think of it like going through a filing cabinet. That way, you can navigate through it without getting lost or washed out. I want to see if you could get through my defenses and find a specific file in my brain. You up for it?"

"You know I love challenges," I replied.

Scooting closer, he reached out and took both of my hands. "I'm going to try burying it, okay? What you're looking for, it's not out in the open. Keep that in mind."

"Got it."

I closed my eyes and let myself seep into his mind, the way I've learned to. I lazily floated the river, letting his mind guide me to its most guarded part. I rifled through the thoughts around it, knowing I was in the right drawer, just looking for details.

Suddenly, the door between us slammed shut, almost giving me the feeling of bonking my head into it. I forced myself to recover. He was blocking me out because I was close. All I had to do was get past that.

I imagined invisible hands, reaching out to the door. I imagined tugging and twisting the knob, trying to force my way in. A dull ache started at the base of my skull, making me pull back.

"Whenever you feel that ache, pull away immediately," Seamus had told me weeks ago. "It means you're straining what you shouldn't be. Try and find a new angle."

Okay, new angle.

This time, I imagined myself in front of the door. I imagined throwing out my foot and cracking it against the wood - just like I had that one time I'd accidentally locked myself in the bathroom. I felt the door shudder, so I hit again, imagining more and more power backing me with every kick.

I felt the wood splinter. I felt the knob rattle. And I felt the door jam give way, the door swinging open and revealing -

A woman.

It was an image of a woman.

The same strawberry blonde hair Seamus had. The same blue eyes. Even the same freckles.

Seamus flinched back, grunting as though I'd stung him somehow. His face pinched together in pain, one hand raising to his forehead.

"Oh my - Oh God - Seamus, are you okay?"

He looked up, wiping away blood as he grinned. "Not bad, Tarron. Not bad at all."

Things took a turn for the better after that, like I had put a crack in a stone wall. A crack I could slowly but surely chip away at. Not to mention how much easier it was to play to my strengths rather than beat against my weaknesses.

I'd spend my afternoons walking around with Seamus, reading the thoughts of every person that brushed against my bare arms. I was once made quite the mess of dinner when I pulled each of the six kids on kitchen duty aside and planted very different ideas for the meal in their heads. I even managed to convince Toby his name was 'Awesome-sauce' to the point that he stood up on the table to proclaim it.

"Awesome-sauce, son of Nana!"

Jim just about lost it laughing.

I bumped into Steve on the way back to our cabin that night, looping my arm through his as we walked.

"You're looking better," He said. "I mean, not that you ever don't look better - or good - or bad - no, you never look bad! You've just looked really tired - not that there's anything wrong with tired -"

"Steve," I gave his arm a squeeze. "I get what you mean. And thanks. I feel better."

"Yeah?"

I nodded, though still feeling a sting from my wounded pride.

"When was the last time you went up to the surface?" He asked.

I had to think for a minute. "Sometime last week, I think?"

It had definitely been a while. I'd been so focused on training and making sure I could get up early enough to look after Claire, it had been pushed to the back of my mind.

"I got off early tonight -"

"I was wondering why I bumped into at this hour."

"- so you wanna sneak up with me?" He pulled me a little closer, letting me catch the scent of fresh grass on him. Steve always smelled like fresh grass."Get a good look at the stars?"

I felt my breath hitch in my throat a little, excitement bubbling around in my stomach. "Yeah," I giggled. "Let's do it."

"Someone get Aja!"

I instantly pivoted at the voice, seeing a herd of younger kids sprinting towards me. "There she is!" One of them cried.

A little girl, maybe ten years old, bolted to my side, tears sliding down her face. "Come on!" She grabbed my shirt and began tugging me forward. "Come on! You have to help!"

"Whoa, whoa," I crouched down to try to calm her down, but suddenly all of them were jumping towards me, shouting and crying all at once.

"Okay! Okay!" I spread my hands, backing up from the sea of reaching hands. "One at a time! What's wrong?"

"It's Claire," One of the boys sobbed. "She's hurt."

A wave of horror fell over me. A cold feeling twisted in my gut. _Oh no._

"Show me," I said, herding the kids forward. Two of them grabbed either of my wrists and ran alongside me as we bolted for the middle tunnel. The one Claire used as a classroom.

Steve was still on my heels as we entered the room, seeing how all the tables had been shoved aside, Claire lying in the empty space. Her eyes were rolled back in her head, her back arching up and down as she convulsed. Her arms and legs twitched and spazzed, blood spurting from her nose. I could even see a wet stain growing at the front of her pants.

She was having a seizure.

Oh God.

"Get Jim!" I shouted, and then bolted to her side.

Blinky had once shown me what to do in case she ever had a seizure in the morning. But, I'd never thought - I didn't know -

I shook my head to clear it. Now was not the time to draw a blank.

Grabbing one of the textbooks off a table, I dropped to my knees and opened it onto my lap, placing Claire's head over it. I twisted her head to the side next to keep her from choking, doing my best to ignore the growing crowd of curious eyes.

Steve stood wide-eyed behind me, glancing around the room. "Aja, look."

I glanced up, watching all the tables edge further away. The pencils go flying against the walls. Books scooting across the dirt like they were trying to escape. I could even feel a push in the pit of my stomach. I wondered if Steve could feel it too.

"Is this all her?" I asked.

"I mean, I'm about eighty percent sure it's not me."

Jim rounded the corner at a sprint, bolting to Claire's side. His hands were shaking.

"She's never had a seizure during the day," He whispered.

"Where's Blinky?" I asked. "He can help her, right?"

"Master Jim!" The man burst around the corner, waddling more than running towards us. His eyes filled with horror as they lowered to Claire. "Oh dear . . ."

"What do we do?" I asked. "You can help her, can't you?"

Blinky just shook his head. "We can only wait for it to pass. It should last no more than a few minutes."

As if on cue, Claire's body went completely limp. A hush fell over the room, everything going terribly still.

"Move along," Toby said, ushering away the crowd of kids. "Nothing to see here!"

I couldn't take my eyes off her. ". . . Isn't she supposed to be waking up?"

Jim's hand was trembling as he reached towards her. No, not just trembling. Spazzing. He retracted his hand as soon as he saw it, tucking it against his stomach instead.

"Claire?" He asked, tears in his eyes. "Claire, can you hear me?"

All at once, Claire's eyes burst open. Her back arched. And she gasped in a giant gulp of air. But when it came out, it was a scream. A thousand screams.

She struggled against invisible hands, raking her nails down her arms and kicking at nothing as she shrieked. "Get out of of me!" Claire screamed, ripping at her throat. "Get out! Get out! Get out!"

"Claire, it's okay!" Jim leaned over her, grabbing her bloodied wrists and trying to ease her down. "It's okay! It's okay! Claire, I'm here! You're safe!"

Her back arched a final time, a deafening screech blasting through my eardrums. The tables went flying against the walls, so hard the legs came snapping off. Jim was sent flying into Blinky. Then I was thrown back.

It was like a giant hammer had struck me in the chest, my back slamming into the dirt as I skidded to a stop. I barely had time to catch my breath before Claire's face was suddenly inches from mine. I felt her knees jut into my stomach. I felt her fingers go around my throat, cutting off my air. I saw deep, red tears slide from her eyes.

"Get out!" She screamed in my face, slamming my head into the ground again and again. Above us, the splintered remains of the tables began swirling through the air, like a tornado. "Get out! _Get out! You don't belong here!"_

"Aja!"

"Claire, get off her!"

I threw up my hands against Claire's face, fully prepared to shove her away. But the second I touched her - I felt something. Like a hand made of barbed wire, reaching inside my skull and squeezing my brain.

A scream ripped out of me before the darkness swallowed everything, a terribly familiar river of memories swept me away. But this time, it spat me back out.

It was so still. So quiet.

There was a woman. Smiling over me as I laid on the ground of the empty tunnel.

Her shoulders were wrapped in a golden coat. Long, red hair in a braid over one shoulder. And bright glinting, green eyes. Her left hand was nothing but an emerald prothstetic as she reached down towards me. I tried to flinch away, but I couldn't move.

_My, you_ are _strong. Almost as strong as my fair Claire_, Her voice said, but her mouth didn't move. I felt her golden nails scratch against my cheek. _Careful, little girl. If you open up a big enough door, something's bound to escape._

And it all faded away.


	29. 29

**Sittn' In A Tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G**

**(A/N): get ready for your minds to be boggled**

Waking up didn't happen all at once.

First thing I knew was my head was killing me. Then I felt the softness of a mattress beneath me. Then voices - really loud voices. All shouting and talking over each other. But it was like they were talking underwater. To muffled and mixed for me to make out words.

A hand was touching me. I instinctively recoiled. The voices went quiet.

_Aaaaah . . . . uuuuuuh . . ._

I felt myself squint, straining my ears to make out the sounds.

_Aaaaaah . . . eeeeeeeh . . . yeeeeeer . . . gaaaaaaah . . ._

Ugh, my head felt like it had been cracked in half.

_Gaaaaaaaaah . . . . gaaaaaah . . . guuuuuuuh_

Was I floating?

_Guuuuuh . . . geeeeeyeee . . . guuuuuuuy . . ._

Wait a minute -

"Guys!" Krel's voice cut through the haze like a knife, a sharp sting going through my temples. "Would you get over here, she's waking up!"

"Wha . . . ?"

I had to blink for colors to come into focus, blurring back and forth before everything fit into place again. Like I had sludge for brains.

". . . happened?"

"Take it easy," Krel's voice said, but I couldn't find his face. "You've been out for a while."

"A . . . while?"

Jim's bright blue eyes appeared through the haze, his face pinched in concern. "Can you hear alright?" He asked, his voice soft on my ears. "Can you feel everything?"

"Think . . . so."

Krel's hand went over my hair and I realized my head was sitting in his lap. "Does anything hurt?"

"What . . . happened?" I tried again. My voice felt so sticky. "Where's . . . Claire?"

"She's okay," Jim said. But I caught the red tinge in his eyes. The lie hidden there.

"Where am . . . where am I?" I ran my eyes along the room, trying to piece it together. "What happened?"

"You're in the infirmary," Krel said. "Well . . . kind of."

"Kind of?"

"It's also a storage unit," Jim said. "Claire's in the actual infirmary. You're just on the other side of it."

"Help me . . ." I grunted, forcing my shoulders up. "Help me sit up . . ."

"Hey, hey," Krel's hand went against my back to hold me up. "What did I just say about taking it easy?"

My stomach lurched with nausea, making me dizzy. "_Ugh_ . . ."

"I'll get you some water," Jim said, heading over to the other side of the cabin. I had a feeling he wasn't going to be coming back.

"God," I muttered, feeling the dried blood on my tongue. "How many times have we done this?"

"You mean me dragging your unconscious body away from a scene?" Krel asked. "Three times. That's got to be some kind of record."

"Where is Steve?"

"He's over with Claire," He said. "They needed a third Blue to combat all her . . . power?"

"Close enough."

"You know," Krel shifted a little beside me. "He's not so much of a bumbling oaf after all."

"Did you just compliment Steve Palchuk?" I glanced at him. "Or did I hit my head too hard?"

"Oh, you definitely hit it too hard," He replied. "Besides, I wouldn't really call it a _compliment_ -"

"Aja!" Eli's voice rung through my ears, making me wince as he slid down next to the cot I was on. "You're awake! Finally!"

"Finally?" I glanced back at Krel. "What _happened?"_

His shoulders deflated a little. "We don't really know. Claire was choking you, and then Steve said you started screaming, but by the time they got her off you, you were out."

"How long have I been out?"

Eli looked at his watch. "Two hours and twenty three minutes."

_"What?"_

"You looked like an actual corpse," He informed me. "It's a good thing you had such a strong pulse, or we wouldn't have known what to do."

I reached up to rub my aching forehead. My brand, the ridge between my eyebrows was burning. Stinging sharply. "Can I get an ice pack?"

"I'll get it," Krel said, standing up from the bed and rounding the corner. I sighed, continuing to rub the scar before the pain could get too bad. Too familiar.

"You can still feel it, can't you?"

I looked up, seeing Eli sit beside me on the cot. "What?"

"When they hurt you," He touched his hand to the space between his eyebrows. "You can still feel it. Like it's happening again."

My eyes fell.

"It's okay," He said. "I can still feel it, too."

I glanced at him, seeing all the scars over his scalp. "What do you do?" I asked. "To make it go away?"

He gave a humorless laugh. "Itch."

"Ice," I replied. And we just sat there, in oddly content silence.

When Krel came back, Steve was with him. His face flooded with relief when he saw me. "You okay?" He asked, reaching over to take my hand.

I took the ice pack from Krel with my free hand, pressing it to my forehead. "I think so."

"Do you remember anything?"

"Yeah . . ." I felt a pressure at the top of my head as I thought. What _had_ happened?

The memory hit me like a whip, stinging through my temples. I winced, hissing in a breath as I adjusted the ice pack.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, yes," I waved off Steve's hands. "I'm just . . . I think I need to talk to Jim."

"I think you do, too," Krel said.

"Why?"

"Aja has only gone unconscious like that two other times," Krel replied. "Both times were correlated with her using her abilities as an Orange."

"But Claire's supposed to be immune to Oranges," Eli said.

"Exactly."

Steve looked at me. "You think you got into her head?"

"I know I got into her head," I said. "What I'm not sure of is what I found there."

Krel and Steve each took one of my arms, helping me onto my raw feet as we stumbled across the infirmary, Eli in tow.

Claire was lying on another cot at the center of the room, her arms and throat swollen with fresh scabs. Her fingernails were jagged and filthy. Her hair was plastered to her forehead with sweat. And I noticed that someone had given her a change of pants.

Jim was sitting on the edge of the cot beside her, doing his best to hold Claire's hand in his own, but it kept twitching. Jerking. Eventually he gave up and pressed the spazzing limb to his chest. When he saw me, his eyes lit up with realization and he stood to hand me a water bottle.

"Ah, Miss Aja," Blinky looked up at Jim's movement. "Good to see you on your feet again."

"Thanks," I replied, to both of them. "Jim? Can I talk to you?"

He sighed, as if he'd been dreading this. "Yeah. Krel, could you get Seamus for us?"

He nodded, lowering me onto a stool beside Eli before turning to leave.

"You doing alright?" Jim asked me.

I nodded. "Just need some time for it to wear off."

"So," He leaned against the bed frame. "You got into her head."

"Yes."

A shadow crossed his face, a heavy shadow. One of doubt, confusion, and debate. "There's got to be an explanation," He muttered under his breath.

Seamus and Krel came in a moment later, Seamus's face drawn with confusion. "Okay," He spread his hands before us. "From the top, what just happened?"

Steve rubbed my back the whole time Jim explained, letting me lean into him. Fresh grass. I wonder if that's what the soccer field he used to play on smelled like.

"But Claire's impossible to get into," Seamus said. "She's more blocked than the Hoover Dam."

"Then how did I get in?" I spoke up, lifting my head away from Steve's shoulder.

Everyone turned to Seamus. It had never really occurred to me before, but he was the expert here. "I guess it could have to do with the fact that this is her first seizure during the day. Maybe that cause a part of her mind to open up."

"No," I shook my head. "It wasn't like that. I didn't reach out to her, she reached out to me."

Seamus's brows knitted together. "You're sure?"

"Oh yes," I pressed the ice pack against my skull again. "I am sure."

"How's that possible?" Jim asked. "She's Blue, not Orange."

Seamus brought a hand to his chin, his eyes lowering in thought. "You're right," He said. "She's not."

"Jim?" He looked over at me. "Do you remember when you told me you thought Claire had strained something in her mind? From what she did at Caledonia?"

He gave me a single nod.

"What if . . ." I bit my lip. "What if she didn't strain something. What if she . . . what if something is in her mind? Something that isn't supposed to be there."

Jim's face raised with eagerness, like I was picking at a suspicion he already had. "What gives you that idea?"

"Something happened when I was in her head," I said, a sting going through my temples just thinking about it. "Something that's never happened before."

"What?"

"When I get into people's minds, it's like being pulled under a river," I said. "But with Claire, the river put me somewhere. Like this . . . vision? I don't know how to explain it."

Jim approached me, lowering onto one knee so we'd be eye-level. I had his full attention. "What did you see?"

"A woman," I said. "She was smiling at me."

"You mean like a memory?" Eli asked.

"No," I shook my head. "This was different. Like Claire was inside my head instead of me in hers."

"That's impossible," Seamus said.

Jim ignored him. "What did she look like?"

I pinched my lips together. "She had red hair and green eyes. She was wearing this big, golden, cloak-thing - what?"

Jim was looking at me with absolute horror in his eyes. So was Blinky and Toby. But it was more than that. It was recognition.

Blinky swallowed. "Miss Aja, can you recall her left hand?"

"She didn't have one," I said. "Well, she did. But it was green. And I don't think it was real."

"No _way,"_ Toby put his hands over his mouth. "Jimbo . . . you were right."

"Did she say anything to you?" Jim had tears in his eyes, his hands trembling for real this time.

"She told me I was strong," I said, shrinking back a little. "Almost as strong as Claire, but she called her something weird. Something about her being 'fair'."

Blinky lowered his head stiffly. "Lord _almighty_ . . ."

"What?" My eyes darted between them. "You know her?"

"Did she say anything else?" Toby blurted. "Anything about us?"

"Why?" Krel asked. "Who is she?"

"Please, Aja," Jim said. "What else did she say?"

"She told me to be careful," I blurted. "That . . . if I opened up a big enough door, something would escape."

Jim more fell away from me than leaned, his teary eyes suddenly full of fury. He turned them on Seamus. "You said it was impossible."

Seamus didn't return the look, simply peering at me. "It is."

"Kay, obviously it's not," Toby threw out his hands.

"Would someone fill us in?" Krel asked.

"The woman's name," Blinky's tone went dark, "is Morgana Le Fay. She was the very first Orange . . . and one of our gravest enemies."

"What?" Suddenly, my mind was spinning. "The first Orange? That's impossible. She wasn't a kid. She was . . . old. _Older_ at least."

There was a beat of silence, shuffling feet and fleeting glances between Seamus and Jim.

"What?"

Krel stepped forward. ". . . _Is_ it possible?"

Seamus released a sigh, glancing towards the entryway as if to make sure no one could overhear. "Yes, it's possible."

I was almost too shocked to speak. It - It couldn't be possible. It couldn't be real.

Could it?

"There are a group of adults with Psi abilities," Jim confirmed, speaking slowly enough for me to process. "There aren't a lot of them, but they exist. They call themselves Wizards."

"But," Krel shook his head, flabbergasted. ". . . How?"

"We're not sure," Seamus replied. "We don't even know what causes Psi, let alone why there's an outlier."

"And Morgana," It felt strange to say her name. "She is real?"

"Yes," Blinky said. "She is very real."

"What can she do?" I had to fight to keep my voice taught. "Who is she?"

"The lady's a nutcase," Toby said. "Completely _psycho_. Like Hitler incarnate."

"Yes, but what's her fascination with Claire?" Krel asked. "With all of you, I suppose. What does she want with you?"

"Morgana leads an underground of her own," Jim's voice became soft, his feet carrying him back over to Claire's cot. "She reached out to us, wanting to become allies. But . . ."

Toby cringed. "Hitler _incarnate."_

I almost didn't want to ask. "What does that mean?"

"Morgana and her following believe that IAAN is humanity's way of evolving," Blinky explained. "That those with it deserve to rule over those who don't, and . . . exterminate them."

"Survival of the fittest," Jim muttered bitterly. "That's her favorite phrase."

I felt myself sicken.

"So she is," Krel said. "Worse than the League."

"Hundred fold," Blinky replied.

"When we refused to be compliant," Jim slid his hand into Claire's again. "She sent Angor Rot to destroy the first Trollmarket. She made contact again in Caledonia to offer us a deal. We'd join her and she'd bust us out. We refused," He gave her hand a squeeze. "She said we'd regret it."

"What do you think happened?" I asked. "What could Morgana have done to Claire?"

"After what she did at Caledonia, Claire's mind was weak - like what I was saying before," Jim said. "She strained something. I think Morgana took advantage of that and . . . got inside her."

"So you think she just hollowed out Claire's head, jumped in, and never came out?" Seamus threw up his hands. "That not how Psi works, Jim."

"But that's exactly what it felt like," I said. "Like Claire had a black hole in her mind, and I'd been sucked into it."

"Something is eating away at her," Jim agreed. "She doesn't remember any of the attacks she has. She forgets more of herself everyday."

"Okay," Seamus ran a hand over his forehead. "Let's say Morgana is somehow in Claire's mind. The amount of energy that would take is off the charts. Not to mention, she would have to be _somewhere_ near here to keep in close range of Claire."

"Morgana has had a lifetime to discover and master her abilities as an Orange," Blinky said. "There are many of her ways we do not understand yet."

"Like what you said," I looked at Seamus. "We don't even fully understand the mind, let alone how Oranges can affect it. What if she figured out a way to do this? To step inside Claire like a puppet master?"

"For what purpose?"

"I'm pretty sure Madam M would give her left hand to know where Trollmarket 2.0 is set up," Toby piped up. "You know, if she still had a left hand."

"It would be more than spying," Blinky offered. "Claire is an exceptionally powerful Blue. If Morgana gained control of Claire's body along with her mind, she would be a valuable asset."

"There has to be something we can do," Jim said.

"You can't just remove a black hole," Krel replied. "Like Seamus said, it doesn't work like that."

"Then what do we do?"

"Morgana reached out to me once," I said. "Maybe we could bait her into doing it again."

"That's not a good idea," Seamus shook his head. "You've barely learned to control your powers. Roaming around in a head as damaged as Claire's in not a good idea."

"Claire's head isn't damaged," Toby snapped.

"What about you?" Jim looked at Seamus. "Could you try to get in?"

"I _have,"_ He replied. "It's like taking a toy hammer against a steel wall. It's pointless."

"Wait a minute," I leaned forward. "Morgana said something about opening doors, and when you're in someone's head, sometimes it feels like that. Like you have to open a door to get to the part of the mind you want."

"Yeah," Seamus tilted his head from side to side. "It is kinda like that."

"So maybe, Morgana put a lock on Claire's door, and that's why Seamus can't get in. But," I glanced back at Eli. "What if we picked it?"

All eyes went to Eli, making him choke on his reply.

Krel folded his arms. "You want to pick a metaphorical lock on a metaphorical door."

"What an inquiry," Blinky stroked his chin in thought. "Perhaps it could work."

We all looked back at Seamus.

_"Hypothetically,"_ He spread his hands. "I guess it could. If we got in like that there are ways to seal Morgana away. But there's really only one way to find out."

Jim ran a hand over Claire's hair, his thumb fingering over the white streak. I could see all his pain on his face. How badly he wanted to save her from this. How desperately he loved her.

He looked back at Seamus. "Let's do it."

"So," Krel glanced at me. "Do you have a plan for picking this metaphorical lock on this metaphorical door?"

"Eli's an expert on picking locks," Steve said. "What do ya think, Peppers?"

"Well," Eli ducked his head, reminding me of a deer caught in headlights. "I don't know about _metaphorical_, but, the basics of picking a lock is just mimicking the key. Every lock has certain triggers the key is designed to enact."

"So if we could hit the triggers in Claire's mind," I said. "Then maybe we could get her door open."

Jim craned his neck to look back at Eli. "What would be a trigger in someone's mind?"

"Uh . . ." Eli tilted his head from side to side, eyes raised in thought. "If we're running with the metaphor, then I guess it would be something to make her think . . . deeper? Maybe 'stronger' is a better word? Something that would make her open up."

"Didn't she used to do that with her powers?" Toby asked. "When she'd make herself feel things to get stronger?"

I glanced at Jim. "Make herself feel things?"

"She'd drum up her emotions," He explained. "Fear, love, hope, things like that to give her abilities a push. It's how she was able to do what she did at Caledonia."

Krel peered at her. "Fascinating."

"Perhaps we could use the same technique to, as you say," Blinky waved his hands. "'Open her door'."

"We should probably wait until she's conscious," Seamus said. "If she's mentally aware then her natural defenses may help us out."

Jim nodded slowly, his hand absently petting her hair.

"It has been a long night," Blinky said, a gentle smile on his face. "The rest of you should retire to your cabins. We will continue this in the morning."

My feet were solid again when I stood on them, but Steve kept a protective arm around me anyway. Krel and Seamus walked out together, heading back to their library to finish a few things with Eli tagging behind them. I shot a glance over my shoulder as we left, catching one last glimpse of Jim and Toby cradling the head of their friend.

"Feeling better?" Steve asked, tightening his arm around me.

I didn't answer, I just leaned into him.

"Do you still wanna go up to the surface?" He asked. "We don't have to, if you're not feeling up to it -"

"No," I muttered against his side. "No, I want to go. Some fresh air would be nice right now."

He guided me along, steering us towards one of the back exits the hunters used. It was just past ten-thirty, so there were barely any kids around to see us sneak up. The wind was cool and crisp against my face, the stars bright and beautiful above us as we walked through the grass hand in hand.

"Wanna climb a tree?" He asked me.

I grinned, breaking into a run towards a large oak tree in the distance. "Beat you there!"

"Hey! No fair!"

A laugh burst from my throat when my hands hit the tree bark, a buzz in my stomach as I climbed into the air. Every swing of me pulling myself upward made the weight in my chest a little lighter. Made the air a little sweeter.

Trees are just magical that way.

It took him a minute, but Steve caught up to me eventually, straddling the branch I was on with his back against the tree trunk. I reached with both hands to grab the branches around us, turning so my front faced his. My head fell back, seeing the stars through the canopy of leaves. And my heart ached for home.

"Are you okay?" Steve asked.

I nodded.

"You're tired?"

"Worried."

"About Claire?"

Another nod. "She's my friend . . . Jim and Toby too. It hurts when they hurt."

He brushed a strand of hair away from my face. "Yeah, it does."

I leaned into his hand, savoring how warm and rough it felt. His brown eyes looked impossibly rich in the starlight, something pained behind them.

I sighed, my head lowering away from him.

"What?" He leaned forward, letting me catch that scent of fresh grass. God, that scent was becoming a drug for me. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I breathed, running a hand down my face. "It's just . . . it's has been one hell of a month."

"Don't I know it," He replied.

His hands went to reach for me again, but the sound of birds flapping through the branches made us jump. I jutted closer to him out of instinct, feeling his arms go around my waist. But my head went back, following the birds as they took to the sky, the stars captivating my attention again.

I looked down to see Steve gazing up at me. He ducked his head as soon as I'd caught him, red flushing his face.

"Enjoying the view?" I snickered.

"You just love making fun of me, don't you?"

I ran my fingers through his hair. "You make it too easy."

The moment he looked back up at me was the moment the feeling between us changed. Like he'd flipped a switch with one look. The air became almost electric. A warmth was bubbling over in my core. And a familiar magnetic pull was tugging me closer to him.

_Dangerous_, my mind said.

This time, I listened.

"Hey," His voice was so soft, his rough hands lifting my chin again. "Hey, what is it?"

I shook my head, trying to lean back from him. But every time, the invisible magnet pulled me right back. "You know this isn't a good idea," I whispered.

His face became crestfallen. "What - what do you mean?"

"No," I reached up to grab his collar. "No, it's not you."

"Then what is it?" His hand went into my hair. I looked away. "I gotta know, Aja." He took a breath, almost like he was going to say something else. But when my eyes raised to his again, he hesitated. Then he sighed.

"You know I like you," Steve said it so quietly, so close to me. Like he was afraid someone would overhear.

Warmth flooded my chest. "I like you, too."

"Then why do you keep pulling away?"

I lowered my eyes again. "Do you remember the last time we were in a tree together?"

"Actually," Steve tilted his head a little. "Yeah, kinda. Bits and pieces at least."

"And you're in such a hurry to repeat it?"

He grinned, his hand going solid around my waist. "That kiss was worth it."

My eyes shot back up to meet his. He grinned wider.

His lips brushed my jaw first, tracing delicate kisses down my neck. They were just as rough as the last time they touched me, but it was still the softest feeling in the world. Like I had just melted in his arms. He pressed his chapped lips back up my jaw. Across my cheek. Over my eyelids. And so, so gently over my scar.

"Steve," I whispered, feeling him kiss down the curve of my nose.

"What?"

The second I looked up at him, all my restraint dissolved to nothing.

My lips crashed into Steve's with more force than I intended, his back hitting the bark and me having to grab a branch to steady myself. But I didn't pull back for a second. And neither did he.

His hand went into my hair, tilting my head back. And for a moment, that's all the world was. His calloused hands in my hair. His rough lips on mine. The sweet scent of fresh grass taking over everything - God, that scent was like a _drug_. The corners of my mind went fuzzy, reveling in this feeling -

Then something changed.

It was like a flash appeared in my mind's eye. First it was just emotion, the blissful adrenaline I was riding on. But then it was different. An image. An open soccer field in the early morning, dew still clinging to the grass. The thrill that came with kicking the winning goal.

A _memory_.

I turned my head away from him, his lips falling to my neck - far less delicately than before. "Steve -" I gasped out, the image getting stronger and stronger before my eyes. The feeling climbing in my chest. "Steve, I think - I think I can see -"

He pulled back, brushing the arch of his nose against mine. "Is it hurting you?"

That's when I started feeling it. The soft brush of his mind reaching out to me.

"No," I whispered. "It feels . . ." Warm and tingly and thrilling, ". . . _good_."

"Does that mean," His hand went flat against my back, pulling me flush against him. "We can keep going?"

"Yes . . ." I breathed, then recaptured his lips with mine.

I don't even know how to describe what that kiss was like. There are almost no words for it. I saw glossy images and shining memories. I heard soft, sweet words - words Steve had never dared say out loud. I saw myself sitting in the passenger seat of the van, sunshine in my hair.

Had I ever looked that beautiful?

_Ninja-kicking angel . . ._

I could feel everything he did. The warm, live wire I'd put in his chest. How long he'd had it and how deep it reached. How badly he wanted to tell me, but could never find the words.

I could feel him opening. Not like a door, but like a flower. So full of color, I could get lost in it. And in between it all was the velvety feeling of his mouth against mine.

Suddenly, it was like I'd hit a bruise. His mind recoiled ever so slightly, his lips following. I lifted my eyes to his, watching them cloud over with something. Something hesitant.

I suddenly realized the paper wall between us. How easy it would be for me to cut through it. To see whatever it was he was hiding. The thing he so desperately wanted to show me, but somehow, couldn't.

It would be so easy to pull it out of him.

"What?" I slid my hand against his cheek, feeling the curled ends of his hair with my fingers. "What's wrong?"

He lowered his head, slowly shaking it away from me. His mouth opened, but nothing came out. Like his throat had just . . . closed.

_It would be so easy._

No, I heard myself say. Not out loud. Not to anyone but myself. This was my choice. My control. The one that I had worked so hard to learn.

My eyes asked him permission, pulling him back for another kiss. But this one was softer. Comforting. And he melted into me for it. I smiled against his lips, whispering one line through his thoughts:

_You're safe with me._

He was still hesitating, I could feel it. But slowly, little by little as I coaxed him with kisses, the flower of his mind continued to open. The darkest colors were at the center. Images and feelings that weren't glossy or shinning. Things that hurt. But I wanted to see them all anyway.

I saw Coach Lawrence, but dusty with age. I heard his strong voice as he spoke with Steve's mother. "It's the only place he'll be safe, Jenny. I can take care of him there."

The hallway was cold as Steve stood in it, eavesdropping on the whole conversation.

"So I'm just supposed to stay here?" His mother's voice broke. "You boys mean everything to me, you know that."

"It's the only way, Jenny."

The League was stuffy and confusing, like a maze. Every time you thought you had it figured out, something changed. Leaders were cold and brutal. Kids would disappear on Ops. And Steve had a burning in his chest that just got tighter every time his 'step-dad' spoke to him.

_But he's not my dad_, Steve would say to himself. _I never had a dad and I never will_.

He couldn't stay. The burning in him would consume everything if he did.

I felt how wet and cold the grass was the day he ran away. On some training or Op or whatever. Arcadia was different when he came back to it. I watched it become darker. Emptier. It wasn't home anymore - but Steve doubted if it ever was in the first place.

I saw his mother's face when he showed up at her door that night. Equally horrified and ecstatic as she held him and cried. But all he felt was the burning, begging him to get away from this place.

_Not home_, His mind would say. _Not home. Not home. Home doesn't make you feel like you're in prison. Home doesn't exist._

I felt the horrible tension under Steve's skin as he explained what had happened. Why he was back. How it only stung worse when his mother's eyes filled with tears.

"Just stay with me," I felt the warmth of her hand against mine as she reached over the kitchen table. "Don't go again. I can protect you here. Just stay, honey. Please."

But he couldn't.

I heard the squeak of his bedroom window as he eased it up, sneaking back out into the dark. I felt the high of adrenaline, the burning feeling finally cooling inside him. I saw the brightness of Trollmarket and the patient eyes of Jim Lake Jr. I felt something eager festering inside me, desperate to be free from the guilt. To prove something.

But the guilt followed him. Heavy and corroding inside his heart. A part of him still believed his home was fixable, that it _could_ exist. But everything else kept him rooted away. The regret. The doubt.

How could he ever face his mother again?

The kiss ended when the memory did. Steve was trembling beneath me, his eyes lowered to the ground far below us. He couldn't even look at me.

My fingers touched his chin, feeling the prickly, blond stubble there as I turned his face back to mine. There were tears in his eyes. Tears that he was desperately trying to blink back.

"You're safe with me," I whispered.

He ran his fingertips over my face, brushing back my hair and tracing along my cheek bones. "You really are an angel," He said. And guided my lips back to his.

It was different again. Slow and gentle, and so very tender. He had shown me an old wound, one that would never truly heal. So I did my best to ease the pain. And he did his best to ease mine.

The water droplets beating against the tops of our heads is what pulled us apart, the canopy of leaves only shielding us so much. I giggled, leaning back and letting the rain hit my face. It smelled so earthy now. So clean. Like everything had begun anew.

"Lively," I hummed.

Steve giggled with me, wrapping his arms around my waist to steady me. "Come on," He said. "Let's get you inside, angel."

I sat up straight again. "What did you just call me?"

He went beat red. "Uh . . ."

I smirked, cutting off his stuttering with one last kiss.

It was late by the time we climbed back down to Trollmarket. We were soaked to bone from how long we'd stayed out in the rain, teeth chattering and fingers interlaced as we jogged down the tunnels. And yet, we couldn't stop giggling.

The neon lights had long been dimmed, the eerie glow casting long shadows in front of our cabin. After first I thought it was just Krel and Eli messing around, but the closer we got, the more people we saw. At least six of them. Buzzing in and out of our cabin.

"What's going on?" I muttered as we approached.

Krel was the first one to spot us, catching us out of the corner of his eye as he helped a younger kid put on a backpack.

"Guys!" He jogged over, throwing up his arms. "There you are! We've been looking for you for hours - why are you soaking wet?"

"It was raining," I said.

"We snuck up to surface," Steve explained.

Krel's eyes fell to our joined hands, his face slowly turning into a suspicious glare. "And what exactly were you two doing up on the surface?"

"Nothing," I blurted. "Just . . . needed some fresh air."

He folded his arms. "That better be the only thing that got fresh."

I gave him an innocent smile. He wasn't buying it.

"What's going on?" Steve said, gesturing the people storming our cabin. "Is something wrong?"

Krel got a strange look on his face, somewhere between uneasy and crestfallen. "Uh . . ."

"Steve!" Eli appeared in the doorway of the cabin, his face pale and clammy under the dim lights. But his eyes were bright.

"I'm so glad you're here!" He sprinted forward, throwing his arms around Steve's neck. "I almost thought I wouldn't get to see you before we left."

"Wh-what?" Steve released my hand, hugging Eli back as he laughed a little. "What are you talking about, buttsnack? What's going on here?"

Eli's face became a little sicker. But at the same time, his eyes became a little brighter.

"I'm leaving," He said. "I'm leaving Trollmarket."


	30. 30

**Time To Say Goodbye feat. Nobody Because Goodbyes Suck**

**(A/N): get ready for da FEELS #sorrynotsorry**

We didn't even have time to respond before Eli bolted back around into the cabin. My wide eyes locked onto Krel's, completely dumbfounded.

He just gave me a sad shrug.

"Whoa, whoa, hold up," Steve chased after him, grabbing my hand and pulling me with him. Eli was darting around the inside of the cabin, almost frantically packing. "Wait a minute, Pepperjack. What do you mean you're _leaving?"_

"My parents messaged me back," Eli's face was a mix of anxious and excited. Terrified and eager. "They're gonna meet me in West Virginia. They're gonna take me home."

Steve looked like he'd been slapped.

"Home . . ." He blinked. "To Arcadia?"

"Uh, _yeah,"_ Eli adjusted his glasses again. "Where else?"

Steve couldn't reply.

"Wait, wait," I held up my hands. "You have to leave _now?"_

"The rain will give them cover," Krel said behind me. "Jim thinks it's best if they leave as soon as possible."

"They?" I glanced around at all the other kids running back and forth. "How many kids are going with you?"

Eli shoved some clothes into a backpack. "Five."

_"Five?"_ Steve dropped my hand. "That's way too many. They'll get you caught!"

"No," Eli glanced over his shoulder. "It's the perfect number, actually. And I'll only be with them until we reach the rendezvous point -"

"How do you know it's even your parents messaging you back?" Steve shouted. "What if it's another troll? Or a creep looking to get you back into a ring?"

"I traced the source myself," Krel said. "It's legitimate."

"I'm gonna see my parents again," Eli turned to face Steve. "Can't you be happy for me?"

_"Happy?"_ Steve sounded insulted. "You're leaving, Eli! You're throwing away everything we've worked for!"

"What are you talking about?" Eli threw up a hand. "This _is_ what we've worked for. From day one all I've wanted was to go home. You know that, Steve. So don't you dare pretend that you don't."

"This isn't safe," Steve folded his arms, grounding his feet. "You of all people should know that. You're gonna get caught and get your ass shipped right back to Caledonia -"

"And you of all people should know I'll be fine," Eli snapped. "Stop making excuses, Steve."

His eyes were suddenly rimmed with red. "You're my best friend, Peppers. And you're just gonna leave me here? Split up the Creepslayerz? After everything we've been through?"

The anger drained from Eli's face, his eyes going soft again. "You could come with me, you know." He looked at me and Krel. "All of you could."

Krel and I glanced at each other. Could we even handle another road trip? To _California?_

Steve let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "I can't believe you."

"Arcadia was your home too," Eli defended. "At . . . some point. I mean, who knows? Maybe your mom and Lawrence are still there. Maybe we can find them."

Steve's face colored with rage. I could actually feel it radiating off of him. Eli's face sickened again. Not with fear, with . . . disappointment. He'd said the wrong thing. All the wrong things. Steve would never leave with him now.

Just when I thought the Palchuk was about to explode, to shout or scream - maybe even punch something, he whipped around and stormed out of the cabin. Kids cleared out of his way, his form disappearing down the tunnel.

Eli looked completely crushed.

It took a moment or two, but I finally strode over to him, resting a gentle hand on his shoulder. "We'll help you pack," I said.

He could only nod numbly.

Eli's hands moved slower from then on, sniffling quietly over his pack. Even reaching up to wipe his eyes a few times. We did what we could to comfort him, but a part of me knew it was no use.

Eli and Steve were like brothers, attached at the hip the same way Krel and I were. They'd been like that even back in grade school, before everything in this world went to hell. I couldn't imagine how torn he must've felt.

When all of Eli's belongings and every essential available was packed, we all climbed back up to the surface. Jim and Blinky were waiting for us there, along with a tall woman - probably another changeling. I'd seen dozens of them running around Trollmarket.

"Nomura," Jim said to her. "Can you get them to Trenton?"

She raised a sharp eyebrow. "Depends on who we bump into along the way."

Jim did not look amused.

"Oh, don't get your armor in a twist, little gint," She rolled her eyes. "I'll get them there."

He turned back to the group. "Once you guys get into the city, you'll be able to get a ride. Be careful. Stay low. And stay safe. You guys know how to blend in?"

One of the older kids nodded. "Yeah, especially now that we've got Creepslayer with us."

The kids chuckled a little, a few of them elbowing Eli. He gave them a small smile.

"Say hi to your families for me," Jim said.

A few of the younger kids burst forward, wrapping their arms around Jim's middle. "We won't forget you!" They cried. "We'll tell all your stories!"

Eli turned to us, terror and eagerness in his eyes again. But this time, some sorrow was mixed in. "This isn't really the end, right?" He asked. "You'll come visit Arcadia? Once you find your parents and everything . . . somehow gets back to normal. Ish."

"Of course," Krel said, laying a hand on his shoulder.

"In the meantime," I added. "Tell your parents we said hello."

He yanked us into a hug, the three of us crushing the life out of each other out there in the rain. It took me until then to realize that Eli had become one of my best friends, too. To realize how badly I wanted him to be safe. How terribly I would miss him.

"Please be careful," I told him.

"I will."

"Trust your head," Krel said. "You've got a good one."

"Sure I do," He shrugged. "I'm Green."

Krel shook his head. "Being Green has nothing to do with it."

Footsteps crunched on the grass behind us. When we turned, we saw Steve, climbing up from one of the tunnels. His eyes were red and swollen. His knuckles were bloodied from knocking them against something hard. But he strode forward all the same.

Neither of them had to say anything to know how sorry the other was.

Eli let his backpack slide off his shoulders and crossed the distance between them, pushing himself up on the balls of his feet to wrap his arms around Steve's neck. And Steve hugged him back with all his might.

"I love you, buddy," Eli said.

Steve didn't reply. He didn't have to.

As soon as they parted, Eli turned to me for a hug. "You'll take care of him for me, right?"

I squeezed him, ruffling his hair once we pulled apart. "Always."

He wrapped his arms around Krel's waist. "And you'll keep them out of trouble?"

"I make no promises."

Stepping back, we all pulled together for one last group hug. The weirdest, tangliest, most wonderful group hug ever.

"I'm glad you guys broke into our van that day," Eli said.

"For the last time," Krel replied. "You can't break into something that's not locked."

"Creepslayer," The woman - Nomura? - called from where she stood with the other kids. "Now or never."

We pulled apart, Eli leaning down to retrieve his backpack. "I guess this is goodbye."

"No, not goodbye," Steve shook his head, putting an arm around Eli. "Goodbyes suck, and this is not something that's gonna suck. It's just . . . see ya later. Cause we _will_ see you later - even if it's a lot later. We'll still see you. You can't get away from us that easy, buttsnack."

Eli laughed, but there were still tears in his eyes.

"Then," He slung his pack over his shoulder. "See ya later, guys."

Steve's eyes were just as wet. "See ya later, Peppers."

Then he turned and walked away.

We watched the group climb to the crest of the hill, right at the tree line. One by one, each of them disappeared, Nomura at the head. Eli was the last to go through, turning around just before he did. He held up his arm, making a 'C' shape with the curve of his fingers.

Steve mimicked the sign with his own arm, holding up the 'C' with a sad smile. They looked at each other for a moment, holding onto whatever it meant.

_See ya later._

Then Eli's arm lowered, and he vanished into the tree line.

And he was gone.


	31. 31

**Picking A Metaphorical Lock On A Metaphorical Door**

The following morning was quiet and empty.

Nothing had changed. There was still endless amounts of chattering as Krel and I sat at the tables, crackers and dried fruit between us. There was still laughter echoing across the tunnels. Still the smell of dirt and the feel of dozens of other bodies in the wide room with us.

But it was different without Eli.

Steve had slept in that day. I knew he was awake when I glanced at him, but I understood if he didn't want to get up. Not yet at least. So I left him alone.

Krel and I sat across from each other in complete silence, my knee bouncing uncontrollably under the table. I wondered if Eli had reached Trenton yet. Probably, after walking all night. He might even be asleep right now, taking shifts just like when he was on the road with us. Or maybe they never made it to Trenton at all and some ring of creeps found them and -

"Is that a hickey?"

My head shot up. "Huh?"

Krel glared as he pointed to my neck. "That."

"Uh . . ." I yanked my hair over my shoulder. "No. It's a mosquito bite."

He did not look convinced.

I saw Steve out of the corner of my eye, slowly working his way toward the table. He lowered down next to me with a blank look on his face. The way he was moving, the way his breathing was so deep but so quiet, it reminded me of a zombie. Like the life had been sucked out of him.

"Hey guys," He said.

"Hey mosquito," Krel replied.

He looked up. "Huh?"

I shot Krel a glare as I tried to laugh it off. "I'm sorry, my little brother is a -"

He kicked me under the table.

"Ouch!"

Oh, that is it.

"I was _going_ to say," I launched my foot into his shin. "An annoying pain in the ass!"

"Oh, Aja - um . . ."

I turned my furious glare towards the voice, coming face to face with Jim. He glanced between Krel and I. Then back at Steve.

"Do you guys . . . need anything?"

"Maybe some bug repellent."

_"Argh,"_ I shot to my feet, slamming my palms on the table as I glowered over Krel. But he was just giving me that stupid, shit-eating grin he always gave me when he was being smug.

The little bastard.

"Uh, Aja?"

"What?" I snapped.

"Claire's awake and . . . Seamus and I think you should be there, you know, for when we try . . . picking the lock?"

"Oh," The anger in me deflated a little. "We're doing that now?"

He gave a nervous smile. "Preferably."

I stepped back from the table, Steve catching my hands as I did so. He gave me a small glance from underneath his blond lashes, the tiniest plea to stay with him. I gave his hand a squeeze.

"I'll be back soon," I promised.

He exhaled softly, but released my hand. Krel mimicked a gag.

"And I'll be back for _you_ sooner," I growled, stabbing a finger at him before whipping around and following Jim out the tunnel. Ugh, that kid. The next comment he makes, he'll be losing some teeth.

"You and Krel okay?" Jim asked as we climbed the staircase up to Claire's room. "You two seemed a little tenuous."

"That's one word for it."

". . . Are _you_ okay?"

I sighed, running my hands through my hair. "Yes, yes, I just . . . I miss Eli. I'm scared for him - but also so excited for him. It's so much, it feels like my insides are all tangled up. Krel and Steve feel the same way, I know - probably even more so. I guess it's put us in a sour mood."

"I get that," He said. "If it makes you feel any better, Eli did promise to contact us as soon as he gets to his parents."

'As soon as he gets to his parents'. Eli was actually going to see his parents, after all the hell he'd been through. He was going home. Maybe that meant I could find a way home too.

"Thank you," I said. "It does."

When we came into the room, Claire and Toby were sitting cross legged on the floor, Seamus leaning on the loveseat, looking a little bored. Or maybe he was just tired. He'd probably been up all night with Jim trying to figure this out.

We started with the small things, the simple emotions Claire had used to strengthen her powers before. She leaned back against Jim's chest on the love seat, Seamus sitting across from them, and Toby and I seated on the bed.

"Just think through the memories you've used in the past," Seamus said. "The ones that made you stronger."

I could see Claire and Seamus's brow furrowed in concentration, but I could also see the growing frustration between them. It was like the more they tried, the harder it got.

"Maybe we need to try something else," I said. "Something other than those specific memories."

"Those are the most powerful memories I have," Claire replied. "That's why I _can_ use them."

"Well," I ran my fingers through my hair. "What if we did something other than a memory?"

"You might be onto something, Tarron," Seamus tapped his chin. "I mean, the only reason memories carry any weight is because of the feeling behind them. Maybe we should start focusing on pure emotion instead."

Claire sighed. "How do we do that?"

"Think of . . ." I bit my lip. "Why you love your friends. Why you chose to become a Trollhunter. What did all those things feel like? Whatever it is, hold on to that."

Claire's eyes closed again, a soft smile appearing on her face as she ran through the memories in her head. Jim began absently rubbing her arm, letting her lean into him even more. But her face drew together after a few seconds. Like she couldn't quite grasp the feeling tight enough.

"Imagine it is a little light inside you," I said. "Imagine holding it in your chest, right next to your heart. And it grows brighter and brighter the stronger it gets."

Her face relaxed again, Seamus peering at her as he edged back into her mind. Then she gasped. Jim tensed around her, but her eyes didn't open. Seamus's stare didn't flinch. My insides lurched. We were onto something.

"Ah!" Claire jerked forward. Her hands went to her temples. Blood dripped from her nose.

Jim leaned into her instantly. "Are you okay?"

She just looked up at Seamus. There was blood dripping from his nose too.

"I think," A smile was growing across his face. "I think we've just had a breakthrough."

Okay, 'breakthrough' was a strong word. It was more like he'd put a crack in Claire's - or Morgana's - defenses. We spent the next few days tirelessly expanding that crack.

Seamus spent hours in her head, chipping away at the steel wall. Jim stayed up with Claire through whatever condition she was in. Not even Blinky could convince him to take a break. I was around more for technicality and moral support, helping Seamus rifle through her thoughts and giving him just enough energy to keep going.

'Exhausting' would be a gentle word for it.

When we weren't prying through Claire's head, we were missing Eli. There was a literal part of us missing. A void that no one could fill quite right. I'd find myself making a joke then turning to see Eli's exasperated reaction, only to find he was gone.

I caught Steve doing the same thing almost hourly, looking for the second half of him that was no longer there. I even saw Krel do it a few times.

There were conversations the three of us would have that would just end, leaving us in an empty silence. A silence Eli was supposed to fill. He wouldn't be there to sit beside Krel at dinner. He wouldn't be in his bunk at the end of the day. We went up to the surface a few times, and I found myself wanting to get back early for the sake of Eli's side effect. It took me a full ten minutes to realize, yet again, Eli wasn't here.

The disappointment seemed to hollow me out more with each time.

So I worried.

We all did - Steve especially. I could see the ring of fear, coiling tighter and tighter inside him the more he thought about it. Eli could be on his way back to California, happily between his parents. Or he could be between PSF officers back off to the experiments. And we would have no way of knowing until Eli contacted us. _If_ he contacted us.

It was like torture for Steve.

He threw himself into his work as a hunter to combat it, to give himself a distraction. He was taking longer shifts. Going into further areas. Staying out all night sometimes. And when he wasn't doing that, he was sitting in a tree with me, K-I-S-S-ing.

His stress was like a ball of pins in his chest. His mind didn't even have to reach out to mine, I felt how prickly it was the second his lips touched me. I tried to ease the pain. I tried unraveling the tangled knots inside him with kisses. And, little by little, it seemed to work.

When he was with me, he'd relax. The world wasn't so bad. The ache wasn't so strong. And it was the same for me. As if just being with him made everything else fall away. Sitting up in those trees was how we escaped. But eventually, we'd have to climb back down. We'd have to go face reality again.

And reality _sucked_.

Of course, Krel was not happy with all this 'face sucking' as he so delicately put it. It started as a protective thing. Then a teasing thing. Then he was just pissed over the fact that he was now the third wheel. He was pretty busy with keeping Trollmarket up and running with so little of Seamus's help anyway, so we barely saw each other.

That just made me ache all the more.

So one night, I went to see him. He was sitting behind Papa's laptop in Seamus's library, his feet up on the desk as he sketched out a diagram on bright, blue paper.

"Oh," He caught me out of the corner of his eye. "Hey, Aja. What are you doing in here?"

"I thought I'd come see you before dinner," I said, hopping up on the desk beside his feet. "What are you doing?"

"There's a few lights near the entrance that keep malfunctioning," He said. "I'm trying to find a way to translate the series from circuit to parallel, that way the electricity will be able to flow in all directions and carry the same voltage with identical polarities."

I blinked at him.

"I'm doing some fancy rewiring," Krel summed up. "What about you? Aren't you supposed to be in a tree with Steve?"

"Aren't you supposed to be in a closet with Seamus?"

"For the _last_ time," He glared at me over the top of the screen. "We are just friends."

"Sure you are," I grinned. "That's why you're in the closet."

He threw his pencil at me.

"Okay, okay," I spread my hands. "Truce."

He shook his head, turning back to the laptop. "You're such a pain sometimes."

"Look who's talking."

"Remind me why you came down here again?"

"Because I miss you," I pouted. "It feels like I never see you anymore."

"Well, Trollmarket is not easy to keep running," Krel ran a hand through his hair. "And you're always working with Claire or in a tree with Steve K-I-S-S-ing."

"Why don't we go up to the surface tonight?" I leaned back on my palms. "Then we can have some time together."

"'We' meaning us or 'we' meaning us and Steve?"

"You know," I replied. "You're not that much of a third wheel."

"He calls you his angel, Aja," Krel lowered his eyebrows. "How much more of a third wheel can one be?"

"Come up anyway," I said. "Steve is your friend too."

"'Friend' is a generous word."

I gave him a look.

"What?"

"Come on," I said. "Just because Eli is gone doesn't mean the group we had is."

Krel sighed at the screen.

"Just come up with us," I leaned my elbow on his ankle. "You could even bring Seamus with you."

The tips of his ears went pink. "He'll be working late with Claire."

"Then come hang out with me," I said. "We'll make Steve the third wheel."

"Now _that_ sounds fun."

"Oh, hey Aja."

I turned to see Seamus standing in the doorway, giving him a short wave.

"You're still working on those circuits?" Seamus asked, coming to stand behind Krel as he examined the screen.

"I think I've got it figured out," He replied, tapping against the diagram. Seamus tapped it too, three consecutive times. As always.

"No," Seamus shook his head. "We don't have enough wiring for that."

Krel's brows pinched together. "How much wiring do we have?"

"Barely enough as is," He sighed. "We'll have to find some other conductor or . . . something."

"Ay, ay, ay," Krel exhaled at the screen, running a hand through his hair. Seamus tapped the desk three times.

I nudged his leg with my arm. "You'll get it, little brother."

"Oh, Aja," Seamus turned to me. "I'm glad I caught you. Jim wants us to try one more time before we eat. You up for it?"

"You know it," I smirked, hopping off the desk again. I looked back at Krel. "You'll come up with me afterwards?"

"Yes, yes," He waved a hand without looking up from the screen. "I'll be there."

When Seamus and I arrived back at Claire's room, we barely had a split second to process what we saw. Claire was one her bed, bucking and screaming as Blinky and Jim desperately tried to hold her down. All other the furniture in the room was swirling through the air, Toby waving us arms back and forth as he tried to get them back on the ground.

"Oh hey, guys," He gave a nervous laugh. "Good of you to join the party."

Suddenly, the nightstand was flying towards us. Seamus and I split, ducking against opposite walls as the dresser slammed into the door behind us. Toby managed to catch it before it hit the ground.

"It's like the worst game of dodgeball ever," He mumbled.

Seamus sped around him, rounding to the head of Claire's bed. Bloody tears were leaking down her face, her lips cracking she stretched them so wide as she screamed. The cuts on her arms and throat had been reopened by her newly jagged fingernails, hence the reason Jim and Blinky were so desperately restraining her.

"Aja," Seamus slid his hands over Claire's scalp. "I need your help."

I bolted to her bedside, laying my hand over her forehead as I glanced back at Jim. There were tears in his eyes. Exhaustion. Terror. Helplessness. I looked back at Claire, closing my eyes as Seamus and I sunk into her mind.

Seamus never let me in her mind unattended, and for good reason. Her mind was either a steel trap or a storming ocean of broken glass. Even trying to calm the waves was painful, cutting and terrifying as everything crashed over itself. I could feel her terror. Her confusion. Her pain. As everything in her world lost control.

_Sometimes she doesn't even know who she is._

I felt Seamus and I merge in her mind, him taking what strength I had and dispersing it over her mind. Calming someone was like wrapping them in a warm blanket. So we scraped away the shards of stinging glass and just wrapped her in warmth. Again and again. Until it stuck. With Seamus's trained mind, it only took about ten seconds.

Claire's cries turned to gasping, her chest rising and falling as she caught her breath. Her strained and buckled limbs relaxed, easing down beside her limp body as Jim and Blinky released their hold. Her open and wild eyes came to a slow stop, staring unfocused at the ceiling until they finally rolled back.

"And," Seamus pulled his hands back. "She's asleep."

"This isn't working," Jim bowed his head as he shook it. "It's just getting worse. Why isn't this working? Why is it _always_ getting worse?"

Toby put a hand on Jim's shoulder. "It's gonna be okay, man. We'll figure it out."

"We don't have the time that it will take!" Jim threw up his hands, revealing the fresh tears in his eyes. "Claire - we - we don't even know how much time she has left."

"You said it yourself, Jimbo," Toby shook his shoulder a little. "Claire's tough. She'll pull through, just like she always does."

"But Master Jim does have a point," Blinky said. "This 'lock picking' we are accomplishing does seem to be working, but without any desired effect."

"I know," Seamus sighed. "I'm getting in, it's just that there's nothing there. I've broken into all of her doors, but it's like there was nothing to break into in the first place."

Jim buried his hands in his face. "So what do we do?"

"Wait," I looked up. "What did you say?"

Jim glanced at me. "I asked what we're gonna do."

"No, you," I pointed at Seamus. "What did you just say?"

He squinted at me. "I've broken into all her doors?"

"After that."

"There's nothing to break into in the first place?"

"That!" I jumped to my feet. "I think - oh God - I think, I think, I think . . ." Why was that phrase tugging at a memory? Why was it giving me an idea? "Wait a minute," I muttered. Something Krel had said. The night Eli left.

_For the last time, you can't break into something that's not locked._

"We're waiting," Seamus said, his lips pinned unpleasantly.

"I think . . ." My brows furrowed, mulling the idea over in my head. "I think . . ."

"So you're thinking . . ." Toby gestured at me. "You wanna share with the class what about?"

I looked at Jim. "What if Morgana isn't the one who locked all of Claire's doors?"

He glanced back at her sleeping form. "Then who could've -"

"What if _she_ locked them?" I said. "As a defense mechanism."

Jim looked at Seamus. He only shrugged back. "I guess she could've."

"I mean," I continued. "What if all this time we've been trying to unlock her mind, but maybe - maybe her mind never needed to be unlocked in the first place."

"Then what does her mind need?" Toby asked. "If Morgana's not the one that turned her into the Great Wall of China, then where is she hiding?"

"Where's the black hole?" Jim added.

I glanced down at her again, trying to scrape my thoughts together. "This whole thing . . . it's reminding me of something - when Krel and I broke into Steve and Eli's van, only we never broke in because you can't break into something that's not locked."

Seamus rolled his eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh.

"Ignore him," Jim said. "What do you mean you can't break into something that's not locked?"

"Just that, I guess," I shrugged. "I mean - like - _ugh_, how do I say this? When Krel and I broke into the van, we hid under these sheets in the back. When Steve and Eli got back in the car, they didn't even know we were there. Even when people from the League started shooting at them -"

"I'm sorry," Blinky held up a hand. "You remained inconspicuous when people from the League were doing what now?"

"The point is," I spread my hands. "I think what's happening with Claire is like when we broke into that van. I think that's why it's not working."

"Wait," Toby tilted his head. "How many levels of metaphor are we on now?"

"Aja," Seamus rubbed the bridge of his nose. "You're not making any sense."

"I know, I know," I ran my fingers through my hair, tugging at fistfuls of it. "Just - I don't - here, think of it like this; if Claire's mind was the unlocked van, and we're Steve and Eli trying to get in - we're in, but no one else is in the car. So it's pretty jarring when random strangers begin shooting at us. We've gotten passed all her locked doors, but there's nothing there. And yet, Claire's attacks are still worsening."

"You can't break into something that's not locked," Jim muttered.

"I don't think Morgana . . . _infected_ Claire's mind," I said. "I think she's hiding in one part of it. Somewhere in plain sight. Somewhere that's not locked."

I glanced back at Seamus, but he was already peering back at me. There was an odd range of expressions crossing his face. At first it was just guarded, unreadable. Then it was scrutinizing. Then it was an unsettling mix of jealousy and smugness.

"Seamus," Blinky said, gaining his attention. "Is there a way we could prove Miss Aja's theory correct?"

He hesitated.

"Yes, there is. But I'd recommend we wait until tomorrow."

Jim looked exasperated. "We can't keep wasting time -"

"I've been working with Claire all day," Seamus retorted. "Everyday, all day for weeks now. My abilities are exhausted. Not to mention how trashed your girlfriend is."

Jim gritted his teeth. "She's not _trashed."_

"Okay, okay," Toby rushed over to put himself between the boys. "We're all tired and we're all cranky, heh-heh. That's what this kinda work will do to ya. So why don't we just go eat something and -"

"Aja!"

I whipped towards the door, seeing Krel standing in the doorway. His eyes were wide with fright, his fingertips stained with blood.

"What -" I stepped towards him. "What's wrong? Are you hurt?"

"No," He gulped, shaking his head. "It's Steve. The hunters - they just got back and something's wrong."

"What?" Jim strode over. "What do you mean? What happened?"

"Creeps," Krel blurted. "They were attacked by creeps."


	32. 32

**God Is Trying To Kill Us**

**(A/N): this is gonn be another long rollercoaster so everybody STRAP IN**

**Also: a trigger warning in this chapter for suicide, not to spoil anything, but I promise it's not too graphic. Still I thought I'd put up the warning in case anyone's sensitive. Thanks for reading loves!**

"What happened to Steve?" I asked, running beside Krel as we rushed back down to the infirmary, Jim right on our heels.

"I don't know," Krel swallowed. "But he's not in good shape, none of them are."

"But what _happened?"_

"I just told you what happened!"

"I meant how bad is it!" I shouted back. "How is he hurt?"

"Multiple lacerations to the abdomen, blunt force trauma to the skull, something about a fractured talocrural -"

"Speak English!"

"It's bad, Aja!"

"Argh!"

Panic was exploding in my chest, my heart thrumming in my ears as I sprinted out of the tunnel. My knees felt like jelly but I forced them to keep carrying me. My hands were trembling at my side, so I clenched them tighter to hide it.

All I could think was _no_._ No no no no nonononono_

I burst into the infirmary with so much force I knocked over whatever poor kid happened to be standing in front of the curtain. The storage space had been cleared to make room for more people, makeshifts cots spread wherever they could fit. There were at least eight hunters, sprawled out however they could manage, stains of red surrounding them as they moaned. Two or three weren't even conscious.

Kids were buzzing in and out, whirling from body to body with towels, bandages, disinfectant, water -

"Jim!" A girl kneeling beside a cot in the back called over to us. She was Toby's girlfriend, wasn't she? She was from Arcadia at least. What was her name again? Darci? "Thank God you're here. I think we have a spiral fracture on our hands, I need your help to set it."

He didn't even hesitate before barreling over to her.

Krel led me towards the back, more into the storage area than the actual infirmary. There, laid behind a wall of big plastic tubs, was Steve.

His shirt had been cut open, revealing the slices across his torso. Tissues and bundled up sheets had been placed over them, splotches of red bleeding through the white. His left leg was lifted off the ground by a series of pillows, a makeshift splint locked around his ankle. His face was red and streaked with dirt. His hair was slick with sweat. He was shaking.

The kid aiding him managed to shove a third pillow behind his back, forcing Steve to sit up all the more before scampering off to help somewhere else. Steve was grunting as he winced, his hands reaching for the cuts on his stomach before thinking better of it. It took him a moment, but he saw me.

His face went soft, all the tension leaving his eyes. "Aja . . ."

"Steve!" I dropped to his side, suddenly feeling tears pull at my eyes. But God, I did not want to cry now.

His coarse hand caught my cheek, sliding into my hair as he pulled me close. But his hold wasn't as strong as it normally was. His hand was almost limp against me. I had to put my own against it to keep it firmly on my cheek.

"Oh my God," I gasped, my free hand hovering over the wounds.

"Heh," He gave a breathy laugh. "You should've seen the other guy."

"What happened?"

"Creeps is what happened," He grunted. "The shitheads got the jump on us - but don't worry, the Palchuk gave 'em a good fight."

Krel knelt beside me. "How did you get away?"

"Ran like the flippin' wind, buttsnack."

"What do you mean they got the jump on you?" I asked. "What would a bunch of creeps be doing all the way out here?"

"I don't . . ." He squinted his eyes, shaking his head. "I don't know. It's - it doesn't make any sense. We didn't just run into them. It was like . . . they were waiting for us."

"Like a trap," Krel breathed.

Steve hesitated, then nodded.

"But that's impossible," I looked back at Krel. "There is no way creeps could know about Trollmarket."

"Obviously they know enough to have figured out the hunter's patterns," He replied.

"No . . ." Steve shook his head back and forth. "That . . . they couldn't have."

"What?"

"For them to have us figured out, they'd have to be stalking us -"

"Creeps are notorious for that," Krel said. "Especially goblins."

"I shut down a whole ring of those losers," Steve grimaced. "I would've known if they were stalking us. Once you know what to look for -" He paused, hissing in pain. ". . . They're about as subtle as police sirens."

"If they haven't been stalking hunters," Krel glanced at me. "Then how would they know to look this far out?"

"I don't know," Steve whispered hoarsely. "But they did."

"Hey," Darci appeared around the plastic tub wall. "There's a girl out here, her leg is in bad shape and we need to get her on the table. Krel, can I get some help?"

"Of course," He rose to his feet, following Darci back into the room.

I turned back to Steve, my eyes scanning over the makeshift bandages on his chest and stomach. It looked like he'd been put through a shredder.

"Do you hurt anywhere?" I asked. "How bad?"

"Eh," He gave a cocky tilt of his head. "Pain is nothing to me, remember?"

"Tell me what you need," I said, squeezing his hand as I held it under my chin. "I can get it. Do you need water? I'm sure we've got _some_ kind of painkiller -"

"It's okay," He reached up to my cheek again, running his thumb along the bone there. "You can just . . . sit with me. Really, that's - that's the only painkiller I need."

I let myself laugh a little, pressing a kiss to his clammy palm. But my eyes fell to his chest again and the laughter faded. The way the blood soaked fabrics clung to him was sickening. The pain must've been killing him - I could see it in how bad he was sweating. How heavily he breathed. How he seemed to be teetering on the edge of consciousness.

"Yeah," He chuckled. "Not exactly how I thought you'd end up seeing me shirtless, but hey, I'll take what I can get."

And just like that, the laughter was back. I almost choked on it my throat was so raw, my fingers running through his damp hair.

"Tell me what happened," I whispered. "During the fight."

"They cornered us," He muttered back. "We were just walking and then . . . they were everywhere. But they came out of nowhere."

I picked at the edge of a bandage on his shoulder, feeling the clammy skin beneath it.

"They started coming at us one on one," He said. "Picking us off. This psycho grandma charged me like a flippin' bull. I gave her one hell of a fight. Ha, you shoulda seen it. It's really too bad she was the one with the knife - hey don't cry, angel."

He reached up with both hands, wiping away the beginnings of my tears. I sniffled and wrapped my hands around his wrists. "I'm okay. You just scared me."

"Guess that's payback for all the times you scared me."

I giggled, the last of the tears falling. "Guess so."

Jim came back to check on us, and to hear Steve's version of events. Even before I heard what the others said, I could already see the fear in his eyes. There was no way creeps could know about Trollmarket - and yet, there was no other explanation.

When he was done questioning Steve, he carefully peeled back the makeshift bandages to examine the cuts. "My mom was a doctor," He said. "I may have picked up a thing or two from her - you know, when I'm not doing everything else."

Everything else. Like being an endlessly supportive and caring friend, a qualitative and active leader, protecting and planning all of Trollmarket, and cooking meals worthy of the gods in his free time?

At this point, if Jim Lake Jr. told me he could walk on water, I'd believe him.

"I hate to say this but," Jim winced. "You're gonna need stitches. A lot of them."

Steve paled. "O-oh - oh, that's - that's fine. Yeah, heh, totally fine." He went a little paler.

_He'll cry if he sees a needle._

I laced my fingers through his, giving his hand a small squeeze. "It'll be okay," I whispered. "I'll be here the whole time."

"Really?"

I raised his hand to my lips and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. "Promise."

All in all, Steve had four 'lacerations', as Jim and Darci called them. The first two crossed like an 'X' across his chest, the last two crossed like an 'X' across his stomach. Darci brought over a liquor bottle for him to swig. Apparently they kept it around as an emergency painkiller - for these exact kind of situations. Then Jim ran some alcohol over the hooked needle, and began the stitching.

I honestly lost track of how many sutures Steve received. The cuts on his torso were long and deep, and it took as much time and pain to get them closed. Needless to say, the process was not pretty.

Steve white-knuckled my hand the whole time, gritting his teeth while his tears left tracks in the dirt on his face. It was all he could do to keep from screaming. I'd managed to fill his mind with easy, soft memories. Gentle, warm things. Kind of like filling him with sunshine. It did wonders with keeping him calm, but didn't take away much of the pain.

Twenty, painstaking minutes later, Jim tied off the last stitch. "There," He spread his now empty hands. "Last one. All done."

Steve gasped out a sigh, panting at the ceiling as he continued to white-knuckle my hand. "Great . . ." He wheezed.

"Yes, it is great that you're alive," I ran my fingers over his clammy forehead. "Eli would be so proud of you."

A soft smile managed to come to his face. "You think so?"

"You, Steve Palchuk," Darci said, making us both look up. "Are lucky to be alive - especially after you went back to grab that skateboard."

My brows knitted together. "What?"

Steve would've blushed if he wasn't so pallid. "Uh . . ."

"Most of the hunters just dropped whatever they'd found and ran," Darci said. "But of course, you just _had_ to go back and get your loot, huh?"

She reached behind her, pulling a rough, black board up from beside the plastic tubs. It was weathered and beaten, the wheels were scuffed, and the paint was chipped. But it looked next to perfect to me.

"Hope it was worth it," Darci muttered with a roll of her eyes. Then she stood and crossed the infirmary to tend to the others.

I stared at the board for a moment, wondering if it was even real. I reached out to touch it, feeling the rough surface as I glanced up at Steve, almost questioningly. Did he really - ?

Jim cleared his throat to get our attention again. "We think you sprained your ankle, by the way. And you _definitely_ have a concussion."

Steve managed a nod. "Sounds about right . . ."

"You'll stay here for the night," Jim said. "You should be well enough to go back to your cabin by tomorrow. But I'd lay off hunter work - or any work really, for at least two weeks. Maybe longer."

He only nodded again, far too exhausted for anything else. Returning the gesture, Jim rose to his feet and followed Darci back out from behind the makeshift wall.

My eyes fell back down to the board poised against it, my hands pulling it into my lap. It was real. Heavy and hard. Some of the edges splintered. My fingertips teased the edge of the wheels, hearing the soft hum as they spun in place.

I almost couldn't believe it. I never thought I'd ever see - let alone _ride_ \- a skateboard again.

When I raised my eyes to Steve's again, he had his head ducked shyly. ". . . You talked about how you used to skate, so, I thought, you know, only if - if you'd want to -"

"You really went back for it?" I asked. "For me?"

He gave me a hesitant smile, ducking his head lower.

A breathy laughed pulled out of me, tears pricking behind my eyes again. Lifting the board off my lap, I leaned over Steve's form and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. "Thank you," I whispered against his mouth.

His grin was every bit dreamy as it was drunk. "Anything for you, angel."

I lowered my lips against his once more. And somehow, his hands found enough strength to slide into my hair.

I stayed with him in the infirmary that night, Krel coming to join us eventually. Steve fell asleep with his head in my lap while Krel leaned on my shoulder. I barely slept between them though, spending the night running my fingers through Steve's damp locks and over Krel's arm instead.

I guess I was just grateful I could hold at least two of my boys close.

The next morning, Krel and I helped Steve hobble back to our cabin, letting him rest on Eli's old bunk since he could no longer climb the ladder to his. He'd been prescribed a numbing gel by Darci, something called 'novocaine'.

"They made it for back pain," She said. "Let me tell you, it works wonders."

That morning, every part of me was itching to skate. My feet were literally twitching just thinking about it. So Krel and I hobbled Steve back to sit against the wall of the tunnel so he could watch as I stepped onto a skateboard for the first time in five years.

I was wobbly at first, unbalanced, and constantly having to flail to catch myself. But then, the hum of the wheels synced up with the hum inside me, just like it used to. The rough terrain became smooth. My feet became planted with the board. And I let muscle memory take over.

I leaned my weight back and forth as I sped across the ground, swerving around cabins and kids, giggling as they watched. My front foot pushed on the nose, making the tail jump up and leading me into a kickflip.

I cruised back and forth across the tunnels, feeling lighter than air as I spun on the board - even letting the board spin under me a few times. My feet were just getting bolder every time I kicked off, my chest getting lighter every time I laughed.

Taking a brave stroke, I sped towards one of the picnic tables, leapt off my board, flipped over the surface of the table, then landed back on my board as it sped out from underneath with firm feet.

A chorus of cheers erupted from the kids around me.

"Show off!" Krel shouted from the wall, Steve beaming beside him.

I did a double kickflip in response.

After we'd tucked Steve back into bed to let him rest, we headed into Jim's office to look for Seamus, me still cruising on my board since I simply couldn't get off it again. But by the time we got there, the conversation between the boys was over, Seamus blowing past us as he left the tunnel. Krel gave me an uneasy look, then turned and went after him.

When I rode in, Jim was leaning over his desk, staring blankly at the breakfast Blinky must've brought him. Stale cereal and milk made from powders, plus a mug of coffee.

I took one foot off my board to keep me planted. "You okay?"

"What if I poured coffee in my cereal instead of milk?"

I pulled the mug away from him. "What if you didn't?"

He let out an exhale. "It just doesn't make any sense."

"The creep thing?"

"All the things," Jim threw up his hands. "I mean first I've got Claire to worry about, and then there's this supplies shortage, and now a bunch of creeps somehow figured out our borders and start attacking my hunters. And the weird thing about that -"

He strode over the one of the many maps pinned across the wall. There was one of Lakewood as a whole, marking where Trollmarket was, where the routes for the hunters were, and the river. There was a cluster of pins towards the southern part of town, marking where bands of goblins had been setting up camp.

"- we've been tracking them for months! Even Eli helped us out with it. I knew the risks when we chose to set up here, and I thought we were doing a good job of keeping it under control."

I began rolling my board back and forth under my foot. "Do you think there's a traitor among us?"

"No," He shook his head. "None of my hunters would do that - _could_ do that. It's a two day journey there and back to where the goblins are. And nobody has been unsupervised in that span of time. Everyone has an alibi."

"Then what's the explanation?" I put my hands on my hips. "How could creeps have figured out where the hunters were going to be?"

A heavy weight seemed to pass of Jim's shoulders, an odd shadow coming over his face. It made my stomach twist.

"What is it?"

"A few of the hunters," He began. "They talked about things the goblins said to them. During the fight."

"Like what?"

"Like," He winced. "They'd seen the route in, um, a vision? You know, from . . ." He pointed his index finger at the ceiling.

My eyebrows went into my hairline. "You cannot be serious."

"Wish I wasn't."

"Does that mean -" Guilt was knotting in my stomach just thinking about it. "Does that mean Seamus had something to do with it? He is the only other Orange -"

"No, he couldn't have either," Jim said. "He would've have to go _to_ the goblins to push a vision like that into someone's mind - at least close to them. And he never did."

"So, what?" I folded my arms, leaning my back against the desk. "It was some heaven-sent vision? That's our explanation? God is trying to kill us?"

"I mean, is it really so hard to believe?"

I lowered my eyebrows.

"I know, I know," He waved his hands. "There has to be more to this . . . but nothing's adding up! None of it makes sense."

"What if it's Morgana?"

Jim stilled. He'd already thought of that, I could see it on his face. But I could also see all the fear hiding there. "I sure hope it's not."

"What else could it be?"

"Morgana doesn't know Trollmarket," Jim said, but his hands were still shaking. "Even if she can see through Claire's eyes or whatever, Claire was unconscious when we brought her here. And we've been careful about her seeing maps. She knows we're in Jersey, but not that we're near Lakewood. It doesn't add up."

"So what do we do?"

"That's the million dollar question, huh?"

"Is there a way we could track the goblins now?" I asked. "Maybe get an idea of where and why they've moved?"

"It's risky," He ran a hand down his face. "Even more than usual since we don't know when they could strike next. But . . . I don't know what else we can try."

Two days later, another group of hunters was attacked. They made it back in the middle of the night, dragging each other with blood and dirt caked all over their bodies. The infirmary was bursting at the seams, bandages and medicines running dangerously low. Krel and I stayed up all night running from body to body, using whatever we could find as makeshift medical supplies.

Jim didn't have much choice after that. He recalled all the hunter teams and sealed all the exits. "Each trap door is bolted in place," He told me, showing me the bright, orange geode in his hand. "This is a key stone, they're what activate the doors. Without this, no one's getting in or out."

"How many keys are there?"

"Five," He replied. "One for each of the entrances. I have one, so does Tobes, Blinky, Seamus, and Darci."

"So even if the creeps find an entrance -"

"There's no way they're getting past five solid steel doors."

But that wasn't the real problem.

We were already low on supplies, medical or otherwise. Now with our flow of goods completely cut off, things were not looking good.

"You do realize this could've been the goblin's plan all along, right?" Seamus asked "To starve us out?"

"Creeps aren't that smart," Toby replied. "Especially goblins. They don't think that far ahead."

"Besides," Jim said. "They know the routes of our hunters, not where Trollmarket itself is. We'll be fine hiding out here for at least two more weeks. That should be enough time for them to give up looking for us."

"And if they don't?"

Toby waved his hand. "We'll burn that bridge when we get there."

So that was the plan. Wait them out before we starve. And oh, how I just _loved_ waiting.

I spent most days riding the length of Trollmarket on my skateboard, lending my help to whoever needed it. But most jobs were put on hold since, you know, the majority of them depended on a flow of materials coming in. Like sorting, building, organizing. There wasn't much point to those if nothing was needing to be sorted, built, or organized.

I tried throwing myself into my work with Claire, but Seamus had somehow convinced Jim to put a hold on that too. That way, Seamus could dedicate his time to preserving as much electricity as possible. Him and Krel both.

We were barely three days into the lockdown and I was already losing my mind. Kids had started playing games - any old party game they could remember to fight the boredom. One girl dug up a deck of cards and started a playing poker. Which was fun . . . until the twentieth round. Then it was just getting old.

I continued speeding around on my board, doing whatever tricks I could remember. Even making up a few of my own. And when I'd gotten bored of that, I'd try to go see Krel while he worked with Seamus. But I knew he was busy and I'd just be pestering him. So finally, I'd head back to my cabin to see Steve. You know, since we couldn't really use the trees anymore.

He was healing decently well, all things considered. He was walking and running fine, at least for a little while before his ankle started hurting him. Even his plethora of stitches had lost their irritated pink color, the swelling fading completely.

But they still gave him a good deal of pain, especially if he'd been moving around too much. I did what I could for him with ice packs and novocaine, but rationing those things was not easy.

"Hey," He muttered against my lips that night. "You're all . . . tense."

We were tangled up on my bunk in the dim light, me straddling his hips as I carefully avoided his stitching.

"I'm just . . ." I rolled my eyes as I shook my head. "Pissed."

"At what?"

"Everything."

He pulled me down for another kiss, working against the stiff line I'd pushed my lips into. _"Everything?"_

I blushed. "No fair . . ."

He chuckled, running his fingers through my hair. "Not a fan of just sitting here, are you?"

"I hate doing nothing," I muttered.

He grinned as he kissed along my jaw. "You could always do me."

I pulled back, raising an eyebrow.

He went beat red. "That - that came out wrong!"

I snorted, leaning my palms on the bed as I burst into laughter. Steve covered his blushing face, listening to me howl miserably. Just as I was pulling his hands back to kiss away his blush, the door to the cabin flew open.

"Guys!" Krel shouted. "I just found - what are you doing?"

I leaned back, sitting up on Steve's lap. "Well nothing now."

He cringed. _"Ew."_

Steve pried himself up on his elbows. "What are you doing here? Don't you have work?"

"Oh yeah!" Excitement exploded behind his eyes. "It's Eli! He messaged us!"

Steve sat up so fast he knocked me back. "Wha-at?"

"Yes!" Krel turned to run out. "Come on!"

We scampered after him, bolting to the library to find Seamus bent over Papa's laptop. We crowded around the screen, scanning over the essay on _All Quiet On The Western Front_. The message was short and simple. He'd found his parents. They were well on their way to California. The others had continued safely. And he missed us.

The relief was a real, tangible wave crashing over us. The image of Eli heading back home, safely and happily with his family again, brought tears to my eyes. Steve's too, as much as he tried to hide it.

"When was it sent?" I asked.

"Early this morning," Seamus replied. "Around seven."

I looked back at the essay with misty eyes, just reading over what Eli had written. Nothing made me happier knowing he was okay. But nothing made me miss him more than seeing his own code again. I made a silent promise to myself to go see him in Arcadia, as soon as a safe opportunity arose. Maybe then he could show me all those codes he'd -

Wait.

I squinted at the screen, titling my head. Was I reading this wrong?

The essay was on _All Quiet On The Western Front_, basically a book report giving general praise. Towards the end, Eli talked about Kat's death: _It's poetic how Kat dies from the infection, to show that war has continual consequences._

I read the sentence over and over. Kat didn't die from an infection. This book was the only book I enjoyed reading at the academy, I _know_ how Kat died. He died from a sliver of shrapnel that got under his helmet. That's what's supposed to be poetic about it, after he survived so much, it was a tiny sliver that took him down.

Eli knew that.

"Did you . . ." I glanced back at Krel. "Did you track the source?"

"I did," Seamus said. "It came from somewhere in Indiana."

"And you're sure it's from Eli?"

"No one else knows the code," Steve said, not taking his eyes off the screen.

"Yeah," Seamus came to stand behind him. "Why?"

Something flickered in Seamus's eyes. It was the same look Mary used to give me back in Cabin 27, whenever she had a nightmare and didn't want to talk about it. Or when Shannon would be forced to work extra hours and wouldn't tell us why.

Seamus was being defensive. But it was so subtle, if Thurmond hadn't trained me so well, I probably would've missed it.

"No reason," I ran my hand through my hair. "Sorry. Just paranoid, I guess."

Apparently, I'm not the only one.

Seamus gave me a tight frown before rounding to his own laptop, but when he opened it, there were just a series of glitches.

"Hm, look at that," Krel leaned over his shoulder. "It's still broken. Would you like me to fix it _now?"_

"For the millionth time," Seamus threw a playful glare over his shoulder. "I don't need you to fix it. I've got it."

But when he pressed the spacebar, the screen blacked out.

"Sure, you do."

"You're tired," Seamus tapped the corner of the keyboard three times. "It's late. You should get some rest."

"It really won't take long."

But Seamus waved him off anyway. "Don't worry about it. Just go get some sleep. We've got a long day of rewiring without wiring tomorrow."

The three of us were sitting on the floor of our cabin that night, talking about Eli and what we thought his journey was looking like. I was sitting against one of the dressers, one knee pulled to my chest as the boys talked back and forth. And as much as I wanted to forget, that one stupid line wasn't getting out of my head. It didn't add up.

Just like everything else now.

"Hey," I said, interrupting their conversation. "Did you guys notice anything weird in the essay?"

Steve gave me an odd look. "No, why?"

"I don't know," I muttered. "Krel, you've read the book right?"

_"All Quiet On The Western Front?"_ He asked. "No, I got bored and worked on something for chemistry instead. You helped me cheat the test, remember?"

"Oh," I nodded. "That's right."

Steve nudged me. "Why are you asking?"

I took a deep breath, trying to pull my thoughts together. "I don't know . . . there was something strange about it."

"The essay?"

"Yes," I began twirling a strand of hair through my fingers. "At the bottom, it talked about Kat's death -"

"The book's about a cat?"

"No," Krel said. "Kat is the name of a character."

"Who names their kid 'Cat'?"

"It's short for Kat-san-sisky-"

_"Katczinsky."_

"That's what I said."

"Okay," Steve glanced at me. "But what's so weird about a cat?"

"Again," I said. "It's the name of a character. And what was weird was that Eli talked about how he died, and told the story wrong."

"What do you mean?"

"The essay said Kat died of an infection, but in the book, he dies from shrapnel."

I let that sink in for a moment.

"Eli knows the story. Why would he change such a big part of it?"

"Especially when he's such a stickler about being right," Krel muttered.

"Exactly," I said. "It doesn't make sense."

There were a few beats of silence.

"Maybe he just worded it that way for the sake of the code?" Steve shrugged.

"No," I shook my head. "He's written dozens of other essays before and never had a problem like that."

"What are you saying?" I watched all the relief leave Steve's eyes. He was having his closure ripped away from him. "You don't think Eli sent the message?"

"No, no," I waved my hand, scooting closer to comfort him. "That's not what I'm saying at all. It's just - it's weird." I looked at Krel. "Don't you think?"

"I suppose," He tilted his head a little. "But Seamus tracked the source. We know it was from him."

"Still -"

"Aja, there could be a thousand explanations," Krel said. "Maybe he was tired and his parents were helping him write it. Maybe they were in a rush and he just needed to get the words down. It's nothing to get too worked up over."

I blinked. "You're right," I finally stammered. "It's just a little detail. Probably no big deal. Just forget I said anything."

The next morning, Krel woke me up. Early.

He was shaking me by my shoulders, literally bouncing me up and down. "Aja!" He hissed in the dark. "Wake up! Now!"

I groaned and rolled away from him. "What time is it?"

"C'mon, Aja!" His voice broke. He was shaking. "Please, _please_ wake up. Please."

I sat up, seeing the tears streaming down his face. "Krel," I reached over to wipe them away. "What's wrong? Did you have a nightmare?"

He shook his head, gesturing back towards the door. "You need to come see this."

I followed him out of the cabin, catching a glimpse at the clock. It was just past five in the morning.

We wound our way back towards the main tunnel, and I noticed that it was oddly empty. Jim always had people on night patrol, and I'd assumed that hadn't changed because of the lockdown. Guess I was wrong.

"Over there," His steps slowed, ending up behind me as he pointed towards the entrance to the tunnel that lead to the library.

I nodded my head in the direction. "Show me."

He gave the slightest shake of his head. He looked so pale in the dim light.

"What's wrong?" I asked. "Krel, what is it?"

He raised a shaky finger to the tunnels above ground. Okay, I guess all of it is _below_ ground, but there was a 'second story' of tunnels above the one Jim's office was in. Like Claire's room, but these were connected to the main tunnel by big openings that formed small balconies.

They were mainly used for storage, and Jim had gotten railings and barriers put up on the openings, as to not have anyone falling to the main floor by accident. But the one Krel was pointing to, the barrier was missing.

No, not missing. It was laid flat at the mouth of the opening. Someone had moved it.

Something inside me dropped.

When I rounded the corner, the first thing I saw was the person sprawled out on the dirt floor. They were the only person in the vicinity - it would've been hard to miss them. I stepped closer with jelly knees, a cold feeling growing inside me.

The person - they were so still. So quiet. Face down on the ground, a frizzy ponytail sticking up in the air. They were wearing pajamas, one arm wrapped in a small blanket. They -

They were lying in a pool of their own blood.

It was all I could do to keep from vomiting. I pinned both hands over my mouth, tears filling my eyes as I lowered myself to my knees at their side. At _her_ side. I'd never known her name, but I knew her face. She was one of the Greens, the one Jim had recruited to repair things in Eli's place after he left.

She was dead.

I knew just by looking at her. Her neck was bent at a terrible angle, her eyes staring blankly at the wall. The pool of red was encased around her head, seeping into her shirt and splattered across her blanket.

She was dead.

Oh God.

She was _dead_.

"I found her like this." I turned to see Krel standing a comfortable distance away. "I couldn't sleep and I thought I heard something and . . ."

Tears were streaming now, but every part of me was numb. Numb and cold. My hands lowered to reach for her, hovering above the stiff body.

"Did you touch her?" I whispered.

Krel shook his head.

I pulled my hands away, clenching them to keep from shaking. "Get Seamus -"

"I can't find him."

"What?"

"He's not in his cabin," Krel choked. "I don't know where he is."

Why wouldn't Seamus be in his cabin?

"Go wake up Darci," I said, forcing my voice to be clear. "Tell her what happened. Then go get Jim."

He nodded anxiously, then turned and disappeared in the dark.

I don't know why I hadn't gone with him, but it felt wrong to leave her. Lying here, all broken and bent on the floor. I looked up at the cleared opening directly above us. That had to be at _least_ fifty feet -

Something caught my eye.

A little glint of light. A reflection of what little glow the neon lights were giving off. It was in her hand - the one wrapped in a blanket. The edge of her palm was barely exposed. She was holding something.

I crawled around her body, careful not to disturb any part of it. I peered down at her hand, putting my face as close to her as I dared. What _was_ that? Some kind of glass?

Swallowing the bile in my throat, I gently pried the fabric away from her hand, revealing the tiny glint of color. A clip - a hair clip. Her hand was clenched around the curve of it, clinging to it like a lifeline.

Maybe it was one.

I shuddered, sucking at the air as I tried to control the nausea in my stomach. Why did this happen? What was she even _doing_ here?

Blinking back the tears, my trembling fingers reached for hers, pinching the end of the clip and tugging it from her palm. Her clammy skin made a sickening sound as it peeled away from the barette. Like the sound tape makes when you pull it off the roll.

Leaning back from her, I held up the clip, watching the blue color reflect the dim light. It was only about an inch long. Tarnished and worn, a bit of the paint peeling off on the back. I couldn't figure why it looked so familiar at first. Had I seen it in someone's head?

Then I recognized it. As suddenly as someone pouring ice down my back.

_Oh God -_

"Aja!" Darci's voice echoed off the walls, her figure speeding towards me.

I closed my hand around the clip, shoving it into my pocket before she could see it. But Darci barley noticed anyway. She dropped to her knees beside the body, gasping and panting as tears streamed down her face.

"No, no," She muttered, reaching for the girl's face. "No, no, no . . . Anne . . . _no_ _-"_ Her voice was cut off by sobs, her hands desperately shaking the girl's frozen shoulders. "Come on, Anne," She pleaded. "Get up, please get up, please, _please_. Wake up, Anne, wake up - oh my God, wake up, Anne!" Her voice raised to a shriek. _"Wake up!"_

"Darci -" I reached for her, but the Jim and Toby came barreling around the corner, both sickly pale.

They crashed beside the body just like Darci had, Toby rounding it to sit beside her. She leaned into him instantly, sobbing against his chest as she continued shaking the girl. "Wake up," She pleaded, over and over. "Wake up, wake up, wake up, Anne . . ."

Toby didn't really say anything, but I watched the light leave his eyes. The sorrow and dread crash over him. He bit his lips together, burying himself in Darci's hair to escape the scene.

Jim reached for the body, but then his hand began to spazz again. Jerking and twisting in a way that almost looked painful. He pinned the hand to his lap and held the other over his face, softly beginning to cry.

"Did you know her?" I asked him. He didn't need to answer. Of course he knew her. He knew everyone.

Krel came to sit behind me, wrapping his hands around my shoulders and letting me lean my head back on his. And the two of us just sat there, listening to the sobs of the Trollhunters and their friend. The scene hollowed me out somehow. Like someone had scraped away everything inside me and left me with nothing.

I couldn't imagine how it must've felt for Darci.

Blinky joined us a few minutes later, his hair tousled and his shirt untucked. His face fell when he realized what had happened, dropping to one knee beside Jim. "It's going to be alright, Master Jim," He said, putting a hand over Jim's back. "Everything is going to be alright."

"This is all my fault," Jim choked. "Oh God - this is - this is all my -"

"No, Jim," I put my hand over his knee. "You can't do that to yourself. We don't even know what happened here -"

"I think," Blinky gently cut me off. "It is very clear what happened here."

"No," Darci shook her head, cramming her hands over her face. "No, Anne wouldn't do this - she wouldn't - this doesn't - no, no, _no_. She can't be gone, no, no, God, please don't let her be _gone_."

Jim put his other hand over his face, scrubbing the heels of his hands into his eyes as he swallowed another sob.

"Miss Aja is right, Master Jim," Blinky pulled him under his arm. "You could not have prevented this."

"I could've been on watch," He stammered. "I could've - I could've -"

"But there wasn't anyone on watch tonight," Krel whispered. He didn't say it to Jim - or to anyone. Just under his breath. But Jim heard it anyway.

"What?"

"The watch," Krel shifted uncomfortably under everyone's eyes. "The night patrol? I - I don't why, but no one was out here."

Jim's face was contorted with confusion. _"No one?"_

We shook our heads.

"No," He shook his head, his eyes staring blankly down. "No, that's not right. I assigned it. I did . . . didn't I?"

Suddenly he was on his feet, scrambling back towards the tunnel - into his office. I jumped up after him, suddenly wanting to be as far from this as I could. Blinky, Krel, and I followed him into the office, watching him approach the large calendar hanging on the wall. It was where he scheduled all the jobs. All the shifts.

His finger scanned down the weeks, coming to stop on today's schedule. More specifically, last night's. Whatever was written there, it had been scribbled out so violently, the pen ripped long stripes across the paper.

No wonder no one showed up.

Jim stared at the shredded remnants of last night's shifts, completely numb. I felt numb too. Cold and Empty. Then the sharp edge of the clip in my pocket brushed my fingers, and I was filled with fiery fear all over again.

_Say something_, my mind said. But I couldn't form a single word.

"Master Jim," Blinky touched his shoulder again. "We need to decide what to do."

Those words made Jim's face flush with anger. They were the only words anyone said to him. The only words anyone cared about as he was desperately balancing so much. Couldn't he have a moment to catch his breath?

But kids would be waking up soon. And we needed to move the body.

Blinky was right.

"We can't bury her," Krel croaked behind me. "We're still in lockdown."

"I can -" Jim cleared his throat when his voice cracked. "I can cremate her. Then we can - uh - we can spread her ashes when the lockdown's over."

Toby entered the room, almost carrying Darci she was so distraught. He went back and forth with Blinky about what had happened. Apparently he'd gone up to the balcony to examine it.

"The barrier definitely didn't fall out of place on it's own," He said. "The way that it was . . . she must've moved it herself."

"But she wouldn't do that," Darci cried. "Why would she do that? She wouldn't - she was so excited about our next poker game tomorrow - she wouldn't do this. Why? Why would she do this?"

_Say something_, my mind screamed.

_I can't_, I said back.

Toby was doing his best to comfort Darci, Blinky doing the same with Jim. All the while mourning themselves. But no one was being comforted. No one was calm, even if everyone was quiet. The pain was like an electricity in the air, sparking from person to person without end.

"Jim?" I took a small step towards him. "Is there anything I can do?"

He didn't answer for a long time.

"Go back to your cabin," He looked at me with bloodshot eyes. "Get some rest if you can. Let us take care of it for now."

I didn't argue.

Krel and I didn't sleep when we went back to our bunks. We didn't talk either. We just laid there, numb and hollow. After all the deaths we'd endured, it never got any easier. A part of me was wringing with regret, how I'd had so many opportunities to know her, and I never did. And now she was gone.

We told Steve as soon as he woke up. He'd taken one look at us and known something was wrong, so we gave him the story. He looked pale and unsure, sick to his stomach as he heard every detail. He didn't say anything for a while, and when he did, it was just asking if we could leave for breakfast.

By then, Jim had managed to move the body and wrap it in a sheet, laying it in the infirmary for now. But I could still see the blood stain.

Both Jim and Toby had called everyone into the main tunnel for an announcement, both looking as though they were about to fall over at the thought of getting up in front of all these kids. They were just standing and chattering, so oblivious to the news they were about to receive. Towards the back, I noticed a confused group of kids, glancing around as they looked for someone.

The littlest one, a girl no older than ten, had the same frizzy ponytail I'd seen early this morning. My throat closed up.

The news did not come easily, as much as Jim tried to keep to the point. He kept assuring kids that they were safe here, that there was no need to panic or call off the lockdown. But once the story was told, a horrifying shriek ripped through the air. The little girl, the one with hair identical to Anne's, dropped to her knees and continued to shriek.

Kids began to sob. To blurt questions and threw accusations. _Why wasn't anyone on watch? Why didn't she tell anyone? How dare you think she would do that?_

Toby tried taking over from there, while Blinky escorted the screaming girl out to see the body for herself. To see that it was true. Toby tried to say that these things aren't easy to understand. That we can't really know what happened, but Anne's in a better place now so it's okay.

But it wasn't okay.

We had a ceremony for her that night, after a whole day of tears, numbing silence, and the occasional vomiting. Everyone was brokenly exhausted by that time, just robotically following orders as we paid our respects. Darci helped the little girl - younger sister - give a kind of eulogy. Others joined in towards the end, sharing memories and driving each other to tears over and over.

Jim kept her body wrapped in a sheet, hiding the broken state she had died in. The fire he started was so small, concentrated over her abdomen as he hovered his hand over the sheet. It spread slowly at first, crackling and growing until it consumed her entirely. His hand rose into the air, the heat rising and concentrating with it. I could feel the skin on my face pucker from how hot it was, even though I had to be a least ten feet back from the body.

When it was done, Toby lifted ashes into the air and compacted them into a single ball. Darci used one of the tupperware dishes to catch them, sealing it and setting it in the trembling hands of the little sister.

I offered the girl my condolences, along with everyone else. But I don't even think she heard me from how loud her mind must've been screaming.

After the ceremony, I went to find Krel, only to realize he was with Seamus. Apparently, the reason he hadn't been in his cabin was because he was in the library, working late on the wiring problem they had. His computer had been fixed.

Everyone had cleared out by the time I walked back through the main tunnel, making my way to Jim's office in complete quiet. He was sitting in front of his desk, forehead against his hand as he leaned his elbow on the wood. I almost thought he was a sleep, until I saw the tears dripping through his fingers.

He snapped up at the sound of my footsteps, hastily wiping his face. "Hey," He cleared his throat. "Hey, Aja. You, uh, you doing okay?"

I didn't answer. I just walked to him and put my arms around his neck.

He stiffened at first, more out of surprise than anything. But then he relaxed, wrapping his arms around my waist and sighing on my shoulder. I gently patted his back, listening to his breath even out.

"Thanks, Aja."

"You're welcome."

He leaned back, looking more beaten than ever. "It's just so . . . _wrong_. There should've been signs. We should've picked up on something. But . . . there was _nothing."_ He shook his head. "Can it even happen like that? Without any warning?"

"I don't know," I whispered.

"And we'll never really know what or why," He gave a humorless laugh. "That's the cruel irony of death, isn't it? You never get to live to tell the tale. But, at least we have an idea. Since the only thing on her was that blanket. And the way the barrier had been moved. Even how she'd, um, landed."

My core went icy cold, my hands clenching were they were resting on his forearms. "Jim," I felt tears cloud over my vision. "I need to tell you something."

"What?"

I swallowed. "When Krel went to get Darci, and I was alone with - with her. I found something on her. It was clenched in her hand, like this." I held up my fist.

Jim's face took on another tone, some mixture of puzzled and shock. But also ready. Ready to take whatever I was about to say.

"But I didn't tell anyone," I blurted before he could ask. "Because - b-because I just _couldn't."_

"Why?" Jim put his hands on my arms again. "What is it? You can tell me, Aja."

I pinned my lips together, my hand trembling as it reached into my pocket. When he saw the clip, absolute horror filled his eyes.

"It's Claire's," I said. "Isn't it?"


	33. 33

**This Week On Buzzfeed Unsolved . . .**

**(A/N): are ya'll ready for this**

Jim spent a solid minute and a half just staring at the clip. Tears in his eyes. Barely even breathing. His hand was trembling when he reached for it, lifting it from my fingertips and holding it flat in his palm.

"I don't . . ." He finally stammered. "I don't understand."

"Is it," I cleared the salt from my throat, "it is possible Anne had bought the same clip? That this one is hers?"

Jim shook his head numbly. "These things - she's had them since she was little. Blinky held onto them while we were in Caledonia, and gave them back to her once we were out. There's no way - but it can't be . . ."

"Where has Claire been?" I asked. "For the lockdown."

"She's been in and out," Jim took a step back, clenching his fist around the clip. "I've been with her that whole time. There's no way . . . there's just _no way_ . . ."

I lowered my eyes to the ground. This seemed like the millionth jigsaw puzzle to be dumped in our lap. But half the pieces were missing, and the ones left, didn't fit.

"Did anyone else see this?" Jim looked at me through tears.

I shook my head.

"Then maybe we should keep it between us."

"It has to mean something," I said. "If Anne was planning on killing herself, why would she take the time to break into Claire's room and steal one of her barrettes? Why jump with it?"

"I'm not saying to ignore it," He turned away from me, leaning on the desk again. "Just . . . give me some time to figure this out before everybody knows. And if Claire saw this, in the state she's in," He shook his head. "Thank you for telling me, Aja."

I nodded.

"But really," He looked up at me. "Are you going to be okay?"

I allowed myself a small smile. Of course that's all Jim would care about. No matter how much turmoil he had on his shoulders, he always put other's pain before his own. That's just who he was. Right down at his core.

"I'll be fine," I said. "You?"

"I should be fine after ten years of therapy," He chuckled, his hand closing around the clip. "But I think I'll make it through tonight."

"Taking it one day at a time," I mused. "My cabinmates used to tell me that too."

He gave me a soft smile, a single nod, then turned to head back to his own cabin. And eventually, I headed back to mine.

Steve was asleep when I got there, but Krel was awake. He was sitting on my bunk with his legs dangling over the side, staring numbly at the ground.

"Hey," I said.

He didn't look up. "Hey."

"You okay?"

"Thinking."

I sat down beside him. "What about?"

"It doesn't make sense," He said. "None of it does. There should have been warnings to spot, that's how it always works with mental disorders."

"Suicide isn't a disorder, Krel."

"You know what I mean," He waved a hand. "People don't just go off the deep end. They don't just break one day. It happens over time."

I exhaled at my lap, watching my fingers intertwine there.

"What?" Krel glanced at me. "Are you okay?"

I shrugged, looking away.

"You can tell me anything, remember?" He said. "Even if it's scary or sad?"

A small smile tugged at my lips. "Yes, I know."

A part of me felt guilty about telling Krel about the clip. I'd promised Jim I'd keep it between us not ten minutes ago, and here I was blurting it to the first person I saw. But the better part of me knew different. These incomplete jigsaw puzzles were going to drive the lot of us crazy as they continued to intertwine.

Krel, on the other hand, loved puzzles.

He didn't react when I told him the clip belonged to Claire. He didn't react when I told him about finding it at all. He was too distracted trying to piece together an explanation. I could see the wheels turning behind his eyes, his brows drawn in concentration.

"What do you think?" I asked.

"I'm not sure."

"How so?"

He turned on the bed, sitting cross legged and fully facing me. "One unexplainable occurrence is an anomaly. But three? That's a pattern, Aja."

"Does that mean we're counting the essay thing?"

He deflated a little. "Yes. Eli would never make an error like that. It has to mean something. I'm sorry I told you it was nothing."

I reached over to rub his arm. "It's okay. It's not an easy thing to think about."

"I'll trace the source myself tomorrow," He said. "First thing in the morning to get it out of the way."

"But I thought Seamus had already done that," I said. "Did he mess it up somehow?"

"No," He shook his head.

"Then how -?"

"His computer was faulty, remember? That could've affected how he was tracking the signal."

"So what then?" I asked. "Why would someone even send us a fake message in the first place?"

"One thing at a time," He replied. "All of this, it's following a pattern. Maybe if we figure out one part of it, it will lead us to the next."

"Like it's all coronated?"

_"Correlated_, Aja," Krel said. "And yes, I think it is. Something isn't right here."

I huffed a strand of hair out of my face. "Definitely."

The next morning, I woke to the feeling of the bunk shaking as Krel climbed down it. It was early enough for my eyes to be groggy, the clock reading barely past seven in the morning.

"Krel," I whispered at his back, just before he walked out the door. "What are you doing?"

He gave me a funny look over his shoulder. "Work, duh."

"It's like . . . jeez, what time is it?"

"I've got a lot to do," He shrugged. "Seamus and I both do."

I pouted. "I wish I had a lot to do."

He snickered, striding over to ruffle my hair. "Patience, Aja."

"I hate that word."

He laughed again, giving a strand of my hair a final tug before turning back to the door. "I'll see you at breakfast."

But I didn't see him at breakfast. I kept glancing around, expecting to see him come through the entrance like he always did. But he didn't.

"Hey, Aja," Steve said, lowering himself down beside me at the table.

"Hey," I muttered, leaning on his shoulder.

It was quieter than most days, the shock of the death still taking its toll. Most kids were picking at their food rather than eating it. Some weren't eating at all. The little sister, Lizzie was her name, she'd locked herself in her cabin, hidden under the covers and refused to come out for anything. No one could really blame her.

"Where's Krel?"

"I don't know," I replied. "He said he would be here. Must've gotten too busy."

"Eh," He reached around to rub my back. "We'll just catch him later."

But we didn't catch him later. He wasn't at lunch. Wasn't at any of the problem spots for the lights. Not in any games. Not in any tunnels passing by. No where.

Him not showing up for dinner was the last straw.

"That boy will burn himself out like this," I said, grabbing an extra plate and boarding my skateboard to head down to the library, Steve in tow. "I don't care how busy he is, he needs to eat."

But when we got there, it was just Seamus sitting at the desk, scrolling through his now fully functioning laptop. "Hey guys," He tossed us a nod without looking up.

"Where's Krel?" I asked, kicking my skateboard underneath the desk. "I brought him dinner."

Seamus pulled back from the screen, his brows pinching together. "What do you mean?"

"I want to know where my brother is?" What was so confusing about that?

Apparently a lot since Seamus's expression only got more puzzled.

"You mean," He started. "He hasn't been with you?"

"No," I peered at him. "Why would you think he was with me?"

"Well, when he didn't show up for work I assumed he needed a day off," He shrugged. "Krel's been working hard. I wanted him to rest if he needed it - especially with everything that's been happening."

A cold hand of fear gripped my core. "He didn't show up for work?"

Seamus shook his head. "I haven't seen him at all today."

"What? No," I replied. "No, he got up for work - he woke me up, too. It was before breakfast -"

"What time?" Seamus leaned forward in his chair.

"I don't know," I tilted my head back and forth. "Maybe seven-ish?"

His face cringed with pity. "I've only been up since eight . . ."

"Wait, so you haven't seen him?" I gaped at him. "At all?"

"I thought he was with you -"

"What?" I shook my head, running both hands through it. "That doesn't - why wouldn't he be here? He said he was going here."

"Okay, okay," Steve reached out to rub my arms. "Let's not panic. We're in a giant hole in the ground. He was to be down here somewhere."

"He's right," Seamus rose from his seat. "It's not like Krel could've vanished into thin air. Here, I'll help you find him. Could use the break anyway."

"Right, right," I forced myself to nod, following Steve out of the tunnel. "We'll just . . . find him."

Then why wouldn't this cold feeling leave?

Every instinct in my body was telling me something was wrong. Whether that was because I was still jittery from yesterday's events, or the bundle of separation issues my oh-so lovely life had given me, I don't know. And the constant, _No, I haven't seen him_, wasn't helping.

It took us until we reached the kitchens for someone to give us a clue.

"Sorry," The boy in charge of the food storage said. "Who is this again?"

"Latino boy," I said. "About this tall. He does a ton of wiring with the lights?"

The boy thought for a moment. "Does he wear a blue hoodie?"

"Yes," I leaned forward. "Have you seen him? Where?"

"Maybe," The boy squinted as he thought. "I saw someone walking around right before we did the wake-up call this morning. I tried to stop him to see what he was doing, but he just pushed past me. He didn't even say anything - it was creepy as hell."

"Where?" I repeated. "What time?"

"I don't know," He shrugged. "Early? And he was walking in this back tunnel, kinda over by the door."

"Did you ever figure out what he was doing back here?" Seamus asked.

"Besides freaking everybody out?" The boy raised his eyebrows. "No. Like I said, I tried talking to him but he wouldn't respond. I figured he was just mad about yesterday and left him alone."

"Do you think it was Krel?" Steve asked me as we walked away. "I mean, it is kinda weird but -"

"It's the only time anyone else saw him," I finished. "Or, at least _thinks_ they saw him."

"He has to be somewhere around here," Seamus said. "We're on lockdown, remember?"

"Yes, but we've checked everywhere," I replied. "I don't know where else he could've gone. And for the whole day? It just feels . . . wrong."

"Let's go talk to Jim about it," He replied. "I'm sure he'd be happy to help."

But talking to Jim only made me antsier. We'd gone to every station, every cabin, every tunnel and no one had any clue to where Krel might be. Talking to Jim felt like a last resort.

"So Krel has been missing all day?" He asked, folding his arms against his armor.

"He got up early this morning, said he was going to the library, but apparently never showed up," I tousled my hair in the back, trying to give my shaking hands something to do.

"And you haven't found him yet?"

I shook my head.

"That's some twilight zone shit right there," Toby muttered.

Jim threw a glare over his shoulder. "Tobes."

"What?" He shrugged innocently. "The guy up and vanished. That's not freaky to you?"

"I'll get a search party together," Jim turned back to me. "It shouldn't take long to track him down."

Something in my gut was twisting anyway.

"Hey," Jim laid a hand on my shoulder. "We'll find him."

"And I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation as to why he got swallowed by the twilight zone," Toby chimed in.

"Right," I replied. "Cause there's a reasonable explanation for everything that's happened in the past week and a half."

The boys were unable to reply.

Jim opened his mouth to finally say something, but he was suddenly cut off by shouting just outside the tunnel.

"Guys!" Darci appeared in the doorway, her eyes frantic. "Guys, something's wrong!"

Jim stepped around me. "What's going on?"

"I just got back from surveying all the doors," She panted. "One of them's been opened."

Burning dread filled my chest. All the color drained from my face. My weak knees were suddenly threatening to give out beneath me. Oh God, no. Please, _please_ no.

"That's not possible," Jim shook his head. "Not without a keystone. What door was it?"

"The east entrance," She said. "By the library, in the back tunnel."

I pinned my hand over my mouth, tears falling. _No_.

Jim snapped his head around. "Seamus!"

"There's no way!" He shouted back. "I keep my keystone safe, just like you said! It's hidden in my cabin. I can show you right now."

But when we arrived at Seamus's cabin, the room had been completely ransacked. A mattress had been pulled of the bunk. Pillows ripped open. Drawers emptied onto the ground. The back of the dresser had been pried off, revealing an empty bag hidden behind it.

"He was looking for the keystone," Jim murmured in disbelief. His eyes trailed back to me, but I just stood there, both hands pinned over my mouth in horror.

"Well he found it," Seamus gripped the empty bag, his posture a mixture of sorrow and bitterness.

"No," I ran my fingers through my hair, grabbing fistfuls of it. "No, he wouldn't do this. He wouldn't run off with no explanation."

"Yeah," Steve glanced at me. "Isn't that your thing?"

"Yes!" I threw my hands up. "It is! Krel isn't reckless like that. He thinks things through."

"Maybe he did think it through," Toby muttered.

_"No."_ My voice was starting to shake. "When he woke me up this morning he said he'd see me at breakfast. He wasn't planning on going anywhere. That wouldn't have changed for him so fast."

"Well," Seamus looked up from the bag. "What if it had to do with your parents?"

My breath died in my throat.

"He's been looking for them, right?" Seamus got to his feet. "I haven't been monitoring it, and I guess that's on me, but - what if he thought he'd found them? Maybe he went out to meet them, you know, like Eli did."

My entire body was stiff, my chest full of ice. Steve glanced at me out for the corner of my eye, both of us thinking the same thing. When Krel and I had barreled into a building at the thought of our parents being inside, creeps or not.

I swallowed. "He would've gotten me."

"Maybe he didn't think he'd be gone for this long," Seamus said.

A tear fell from my eye. "He would have gotten me."

"Look," Jim laid a hand on my shoulder. "The facts are, a door's been opened, a keystone is gone, and Krel is the only person unaccounted for in Trollmarket."

"Why don't we check his computer?" Seamus asked. "He records everything. Maybe we can figure out where he went."

"Unless," Toby looked at me. "You've got an idea?"

I felt completely frozen. Numb, cold, and humiliated as everybody stared at me. I wanted to scream, to shout and cry that Krel would never be this reckless. This _stupid_. But my throat was too tight to talk, so I just shook my head.

Seamus led us back to the library, flipping open Krel's laptop to the lockscreen. "It's password protected," He said.

I pushed past him. "Allow me."

My hands over the keyboard, I typed in four letters: R' D' R D

The lockscreen disappeared, opening to the homepage. Seamus blinked at me. They all did.

"Rubik's cube algorithm," I said. "He's had the same password since he was nine."

"Huh," Seamus turned back to the screen. "What do you know?"

He spent several seconds scrolling through different files, me leaning back against the desk. The heavy, prickly ball of ice in my chest was only growing, my knee bouncing almost compulsively. He wouldn't do this. He wouldn't. Something's wrong here.

"What?" Seamus muttered under his breath, his brows furrowing as he leaned into the screen. "No, no, no, no - _what?"_

Jim looked over his shoulder. "What is it?"

Seamus leaned back from the screen, his face a mix of shock and devastation. "It's wiped clean."

_"What?"_

"No," I shoved past him, clicking through the files myself. But there was nothing to click through. No firewall. No coding. No records - not even the ones Mama and Papa had left. It was completely empty.

_Something isn't right here._

Seamus rubbed his fingers into his eyes. "Half of our work was on this thing."

"Why would he just delete it?" Jim asked.

"Yeah," Toby leaned over Seamus's shoulder. "That's like doing three weeks of homework and throwing it in the garbage."

"Exactly!" I slammed the laptop closed. "Something is wrong here, don't you see that? Krel would never do any of these things! Something is wrong and someone is trying to cover it up!"

"Yeah, but," Toby glanced to the side. "You're the only other person who has access to this thing, so . . ."

Something in me snapped.

"You think _I_ did this?" I clenched both fists, stomping towards him. "To my own brother?"

"Okay!" Jim sang, stepping between us with both hands held up. "No one is saying that -"

"He literally just did!" Steve said behind me.

"No, he literally just didn't -"

"I didn't mean it like that!" Toby shouted. "It's just the truth."

"Argh!" I threw up both hands. "We're wasting time! Krel is out there somewhere, we need to find him."

"He's been missing for ten hours, Aja," Seamus leaned back in his seat. "He could be anywhere."

I started for the door. "Then we better get going -"

"No, Aja, don't," Jim caught my arm. "I can't send my hunters up there - I can't send anybody up there. It's not safe."

"And yet my little brother is up there," I ripped my arm back. "God knows what's happened to him. He could be hurt - _dying_ -"

"But we can't just go charging into battle," Jim held onto my shoulder, forcing me to face him. "We'd be risking all of Trollmarket."

"So what do we do then? _Abandon_ him?" Hot tears began leaking down my face. "I'm not abandoning my little brother. Not again."

"We just need to think about this -"

"We don't have that kind of time!"

"Master Jim," Blinky appeared in the doorway, completely out of breath. "Master Jim, you must come. It's Claire . . . something is very wrong."

Jim's eyes went wide, clouding over with fear as they darted between Blinky and me. For the first time, I wondered if his loyalty could be a weakness.

"Please, Aja," He whispered with red eyes. "For the sake of every kid here, don't do anything stupid."

I looked away.

Jim and Toby scampered after Blinky, only stopping to beckon Seamus along with them. I didn't watch them go, staring numbly at the ground instead. I gripped my arms against my stomach to keep from shaking. Holding myself so stiffly together to keep from falling apart.

"Hey," Steve's hand brushed my back, pulling me against him. I felt myself crumble in his arms, wrapping my arms around his neck as held me.

"I should've known something was wrong before now," I said into his shoulder. "I should've known, and now he's out there on his own and someone's hurt him I _know_ someone's hurt him -"

"Hey, hey," Steve cradled me against his chest, slowly rocking me back and forth. "It's gonna be okay, angel. It's gonna be okay. We'll find him."

I buried myself in his neck, letting my tears soak into his collar. My legs were screaming at me to run. To run and get whatever keystone I could and get the hell out of here. I wasn't leaving him out there with creeps. With the world that wanted to tear him apart.

But where could I look? Where could I go that wouldn't put all of Trollmarket in danger?

Something's poking me.

I leaned back, sniffling. "What's in your pocket?"

He jerked away from me, his face beat red. "Uh . . ."

I picked at the stiff, paper corner sticking out of his jacket pocket. "I was talking about this."

"Oh," He rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a small sigh. "Good . . ."

"What is it?"

"I found it over by Krel's laptop when we came here after dinner," He said. "It was weird, and I was gonna ask you what it meant. But then . . . things got crazy."

I pulled the folded paper out of his pocket, opening it between us. "What do you mean it was weird?"

"Just look at it," He said. "It's like modern art or something."

Whatever it was, the drawing was in pencil. A single, wavy line cut diagonally across the thick paper. A few centimeters beside it was a dot. An inch above that on the edge of the line was another dot. And a large semi-circle was curved around the top right-hand corner.

"Where did you find this again?"

"By Krel's laptop," He pointed back at the desk. "Over there."

I looked down at the drawing. Then back up at the cluster of papers pinned around the desk. Those were diagrams. Blueprints. Equations. This was a two dots and a squiggly line.

It didn't belong.

"Do you know what it means?" Steve asked.

I sniffled again, wiping under my eyes as I peered back at the wall. All the diagrams and charts, pinned and lined together around a map of Trollmarket. A map of Lakewood.

Wait a minute.

"Aja?"

I took a step forward, straightening my arms and holding out the drawing out as I walked closer. I pressed it against the map. It fit perfectly.

"That's the river." I pointed to the line. "That's Lakewood." I pointed to the semi-circle. "And that dot is Trollmarket."

"Then," Steve's finger landed on the second dot. "What's that?"

"That," I said. "Is where my little brother went."


	34. 34

**What Episode Of Riverdale Is This?**

"Steve!"

He barely had time to process what I'd said before Toby came barreling through the doorway, shouting his name.

"We need you, dilweed!"

He jumped back, glancing back and forth between Toby and I. ". . . Huh?"

"We need another Blue," Toby panted, leaning on the wall.

Suddenly, the ceiling above us began to shake, enough for bits of dust to rain down. A few lights began flickering. I felt the desk jostle a little against my back.

"Like," Toby went pallid. "Right now."

Steve swallowed, nodding a few times before taking my hand. "I'll be right there."

Toby rolled his eyes, then dashed back out of the tunnel.

More dust rained down from the ceiling as Steve pulled me against him. "You need to get up there," I whispered.

"I don't wanna leave you."

I tightened my arms around his neck. "I don't want you to leave either."

He leaned back, pulling the paper from my hands as he did.

"What are you doing? I need that -"

"Please, Aja," He slipped it back into his pocket. "Just wait till I get back. We need some time to think about this -"

"No," I shook my head, swiping for the paper. "Krel's been out there for hours, we don't have any time -"

"Aja, those creeps will tear you apart," He grabbed my arms, pulling me back against him. "And I'm not gonna let that happen, okay?"

"But you'll let it happen to Krel."

His face fell. "Please don't do this, Aja. Please. We'll find him, I swear to you we will, but we can't risk all of Trollmarket doing it. Just wait for me to come back. Please. We can figure this out together."

I just looked at the ground.

He sighed, pressing a feather light kiss to my temple. "Stay out of trouble, angel."

I felt cold as soon as he left, missing his body heat. But I didn't reply until I heard the curtain swish closed.

"You're only in trouble if you get caught."

My feet carried my out of the tunnel fast enough for the air to blow my hair back. Adrenaline was hot and alive in my chest. My breathing and my hands were steady and tense. I was ready. So I headed straight for the infirmary.

Darci had a keystone, and I was betting I knew where it was.

She was in the back of the room, more towards the storage area and behind the wall of plastic tubs when I entered. She was arguing with one of the changelings - Nomura.

"You can't just take stuff without telling me!" Darci shouted.

I snuck around to the cabinets lining the wall. Only one of them had a lock on it.

"I had an injury that needed attending, quit getting your panties in a twist."

"If you have an injury you're supposed to tell me!"

Opening one of the drawers, I lifted a small pocket knife out. I flipped open the blade that most resembled a saw and put it against the first hinge. I'm not Eli and I don't have time to pretend to be.

"You're a child."

"Yeah! A child that could skip you like a rock!"

They were too invested in their argument to hear the small hum of me cutting around the hinge. The wood was cheap and old, splintering and peeling as I curved the metal.

"Is that a threat?"

"It's a fact, old lady!"

I started on the second hinge, the knife slipping when I finished. Hooking my fingers around the now open edge of the cabinet, I bent the cheap wood the little ways it would go without cracking. A bit of light seeped through the opening, reflecting off something orange.

"This doesn't end well for you, _little girl."_

"Bring it, changeling!"

The sharp edge of the board scraped against my arm as I reached into the cabinet. The keystone was heavier than I expected. Thick and solid, but still smooth like glass. I squeezed it out of the opening and let the board relax back into place, sliding back against the hinges as if it had never been cut.

I didn't stay long enough to see how the argument ended. Though judging by the amount of crashing I heard on my way out, I had a fairly accurate idea.

I swung by Jim's office on the way to the exit, grabbing one of the hunter's jackets off the hook there. Most of the hunters kept their things here, that way all the weapons within Trollmarket could be kept track of.

My eyes stayed on the basin containing them for a split second before I left. After a moment of hesitation, I grabbed a lead pipe from it, then turned out of the tunnel.

Pulling the jacket over my shoulders, I tucked the keystone into the underside of it and held the pipe close to my side. It was late enough for the tunnels to be sparse, but not empty. I took confident strides, keeping the key and the weapon out of sight as much as possible. The trick to getting past suspicion is to look like you know where you're going.

And I did.

All I felt was a buzz of adrenaline, the itching need to be out of here as soon as possible. I needed to get out. I needed to get to that place just up the river. I needed to find Krel. And I couldn't get started fast enough.

The air was cool against my face when I stepped out, streaks of vibrant orange and purple against the sky. It was so calm. The fields and grass gently swaying in the wind. The trees rustling softly. A few birds singing back and forth to each other.

Meanwhile a full blown ice storm was exploding in my chest.

I forced myself towards the river anyway. When I came the rocky shore, I placed the keystone in between the rocks, covering it with stalks of bulrushes I pulled from the water. That way, no matter what, creeps wouldn't be able to get it off me.

Now all that was left to do was follow the river.

That dot had been north of Trollmarket, right along the shoreline. With any luck, the current would be my guide.

The sky continued to darken as I walked along the tree line, the pipe weighing over my shoulder. I tried to keep my footsteps quiet, stepping carefully over the dirt instead of the underbrush. My eyes did rounds over my surroundings all the while. But the dimmer the sky became, the longer the shadows grew.

I jumped and peered at each of the dark patches in the woods, catching figures between the trees before they vanished. My hands were clammy around the pipe. That horrible anxious feeling in the back of my neck as if someone was watching me.

I tried to focus to combat it. Spreading out all my senses so thinly was just going to make me more paranoid than I already was. I came out here to find Krel, and I would. No matter what.

Behind me, a branch snapped.

I whipped around, seeing a bush a few paces to my left rustle. I swung the heavy pipe over my shoulder to strike. My feet took slow, careful steps towards the sound. I was beginning to wonder if I should've brought a flashlight.

Something moved.

Just out of the corner of my eye. Along a line of trees on my right and into the shadows. By the time I turned my head it was gone. The pipe came down in front of me, held defensively before my torso. My eyes darted between the shadows, my feet turning me in a slow circle.

Another sound. Behind me this time.

I whirled around again, only seeing the dark network of trees before the river. The image of all those kids in the infirmary went through my head. How they'd been mercilessly beaten and sliced at. I swallowed a lump of fear in my throat.

If creeps were here, they were going to regret sneaking up on an Orange.

_They came out of nowhere -_

An arm closed around my waist, pulling me flush against someone's chest and twisting the pipe out of my hands in one move. I shrieked at the contact, throwing back my elbow and feeling it hit something warm. A gloved hand clamped over my mouth to contain the scream. I arched my back, thrashing and kicking my feet into the air.

All I needed was to brush bare skin. Then this creep would regret ever coming near -

"Aja!" A voice hissed against the shell of my ear. "Relax! It's just me!"

My feet fell back to the ground, the hand loosening over my mouth as I twisted in their arms. I recognized his face before my eyes did.

"Steve?"

He gave me a sheepish grin.

"What the hell, Steve?" I shoved away from him. "You scared the life out of me!"

"Good," He put his hands on his hips. "Now you know how we felt when we found out you'd taken Darci's keystone."

I ignored him, turning back towards the river and swiping the pipe off the ground.

"What?" Steve lifted his bat from where it had been propped against a tree. "You got nothing to say for yourself?"

I glanced over my shoulder. "You were the ones who left me unsupervised."

He looked at me for a minute. "Okay, having the accountability of a five year-old is my job. You can't take that from me."

I rolled my eyes, continuing towards the river.

His footsteps crunched behind me. "Do you even know what you're doing?"

"I'm figuring it out."

"Did you figure out the two goblins stalking you?"

I stopped.

"Don't worry, the Palchuk took care of them for you."

I took a deep breath. "Thanks." And kept walking.

"Can you just admit you don't know what you're doing?"

"I don't need to know."

"Do you even hear yourself?"

"Do _you?"_ I turned, walking backwards. "You sound just like Eli."

"If I hadn't come out here to find you," He said. "You would've gotten yourself killed."

"I'm an Orange, Steve," I replied, turning back around. "I would've been fine."

"Oh really? What about gloves?" He jogged to catch up to me. "Coats? What if they got the jump on you?"

"That's what the pipe's for," I snapped, waving it in his face.

"Yeah, the girl who owns that by the way, she's pissed you took it."

"I'm just borrowing it."

"I told you to stay out of trouble."

"Bold of you to assume you can tell me what to do."

He groaned. "Aja, would you just -"

He grabbed at my elbow but I ripped it back. "I'm not going back," I said. "Not without my brother."

"Yeah, I got that."

"Then why are you here?"

"Because you need backup," He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. "Exhibit A for that is about twenty feet behind us."

I scoffed, my eyes rolling back yet again.

"No, I mean it," His hand slipped into mine. "You're a total badass, angel - but this is my turf. And I'm not letting you do this alone."

I peered at him. "Really?"

"I said we'd figure it out together, didn't I? I mean, it's not exactly how I _thought_ we were gonna figure it out, but still -"

I hooked my fingers though the belt loops of his pants, tugging him into a kiss. He reacted instantly, his baseball bat thudded against the dirt and his hands coming to cradle my waist. It probably wasn't the best place to kiss him like that. Probably not the best time either. But I let my fingers slide into his hair anyway, feeling the way the golden ends curled.

"You've got me in so much trouble, angel," He muttered.

"You hear something?"

We snapped apart at the voice, going stiff in each other's arms. Without words, Steve lifted me off the ground, whirling the two of us behind a pair of trees. He kept one arm protectively around my waist, my back secured against his chest. Footsteps crunched not ten feet ahead of us, more voices following.

"You're off your meds, Jack."

"Nah! I heard something!"

"Let's just get back, the sun's gone down anyway. I wanna get back in time to eat."

Get back? So they did have a camp set up near here.

"C'mon, one more round. I can almost smell those little perditions."

Steve gripped me tighter against him. My knuckles went white around the pipe.

"Let's just go. You don't wanna miss what's happening tonight, do you?"

"Oh yeah, that Yellow boy that walked into our camp this morning?"

I gasped. Steve slapped his hand over my mouth halfway through it. And I slapped my hands over his.

"C'mon, tell me you didn't hear something!"

"I didn't hear something."

"Alright, alright! You get your wish, we'll go back."

And their footsteps crunched away.

"They have Krel," I whimpered, as soon as Steve pulled his hand away. "Oh my God, they have my little brother -"

"Hey, hey," He turned me in his arms, holding my shoulders as he spoke. "Yes, they have him, but it sounds like they haven't hurt him yet. Creeps usually wait till night anyway."

"Wait until night?" I asked. "To do what?"

He hesitated, his voice dropping to barely above a whisper. "A sacrifice."

The words were like a punch in the gut, knocking the breath clean from my lungs. The tears gathering in my eyes spilled down my cheeks, hot and angry. But it was more than angry. More than fear. More than dread.

It was fury.

"Wow, you are terrifying."

I looked back up at Steve. "What?"

"Nothing," He stooped to retrieve his bat. "Let's tail those guys. They'll lead us to the camp -"

"Wait," I peered around the tree. "They walked away from the river. Krel walked along it."

"No, he didn't," Steve shook his head. "Those guys said he walked into their camp, remember? And their camp isn't on the river."

I thought for a moment. "Did Krel draw that map?"

Steve shrugged. "It was by his laptop."

"Anyone could've put it there," I whispered.

"Maybe he was looking for something, but got distracted."

"Distracted enough to walk into a camp full of goblins?"

He just shook his head. "Well, if Krel didn't draw the map, then who did?"

"And why did he come out here in the first place?" I muttered under my breath.

I sighed, shaking my head and running my fingers through my hair. The answers to these questions didn't matter. What mattered was finding Krel and getting him the hell away from here.

"Steve," I said. "Is there any way . . . the goblins have a second camp? Like a place for all of them to sleep and eat, and somewhere else too? Another base of operations?"

His face cringed in thought, a hand coming the scratch the back of his head. Then his eyes brightened. "Oh yeah, actually. I saw it this one time back in Arcadia. These goblins had a whole building they were living in, then a weird garden thing to do all their sacred-scripture-shit. They called it the slaughter house."

All the color drained from my face. "We need to get there."

"Yeah," Steve nodded. "We do."

Grasping hands, we wound our way back to the river's edge, doing our best to be quick but quiet. As we came up to a bend in the river, I noticed a glare of fire light off in the distance, loud voices following it. I tugged Steve forward a little more.

Our only light was the moon reflecting silver off the water. I guess that's why we didn't see the cabin until light began pouring out of it's windows. We instantly backed up, Steve pulling us behind a cluster of vegetation. I had to get on the balls of my feet to peer around it.

The cabin had been built right on the edge of the shore, a balcony coming out over the water. The wood around the foundation was rotted and riddled with overgrown greenery. The glass on the windows was broken. Parts of the balcony had been washed away completely by the river.

It was clearly abandoned. But the goblins had certainly repurposed it.

There were three women I could see walking back and forth in the light of the windows. Holding candles. Carrying big cloths. Waving their arms up and down like they were praying.

"What are they doing?" I whispered.

"Getting ready," Steve replied.

A fourth woman came into view along a path leading up to the cabin, lighting the way with a burning torch. She lit several other torches surrounding the property, like some kind of vigil. A few others approached her on the path as she did so, starting gentle conversations. Eventually she gestured back towards the camp, and the people left.

For the first time, I noticed how . . . formal all of it was. All four women were wearing long, white gowns, their hair curled and pinned up. The woman outside even had a laurel wreath around her head. Flowers and vines had been set along the path and along the walls of the cabin. Even in some of the windows.

"It's . . . pretty," I said.

"Yeah," He breathed. "Some goblins, the ones _way_ into sacred-scripture-shit, they like to make everything pretty."

"Why won't she let the others into the cabin?"

"Probably cause Krel's too dangerous," Steve whispered back. "If he's even in there, I mean. Sometimes they only have the 'best' of their cult or whatever do the sacrifice, if the kid's like, _really_ fighting. To make sure no one else gets hurt."

"Right," I said. "As opposed to my fifteen year-old brother."

"You'd be surprised - well, no. Actually you wouldn't be."

The woman with the laurel wreath took a bucket from the front porch of the cabin and carried it down to the river bank. She stooped down to fill it, then walked inside the cabin. Not two minutes later, she came back out for more water. A third time. A fourth time.

Seven times.

"What is she doing?"

Steve squinted over my shoulder. "I dunno."

The last time the woman went into the cabin, she stayed. I could see her laurel crown reflecting off the fire light through the windows. She was standing with the three other women, like they were in some kind of prayer circle.

"We need to get in there," I said.

"Ay!"

We whipped around, seeing the man come barreling towards us from across the field.

"What are you two doin' this far from camp, eh?"

Did -

Did he think we were one of them?

I guess in the dark I could've passed off as a relatively short adult. Steve on the other hand could've passed off as a twenty year-old day or night.

The mistake only bought us a few extra seconds.

Steve threw out his arm and man came flying towards us, smacking his head against the tree beside us. Before he could even stumble back enough to realize what happened, I cracked the pipe against the side of his head. The man dropped to the ground.

"Hey! Someone over there?"

Another voice. More footsteps. The light of a torch coming through the trees.

"Go," Steve pushed on my shoulder. "Krel needs you. I've got these guys."

"No," I shook my head. "You're still hurt, what if -"

He grabbed me by my waist, pulling me in for a short, hard kiss.

"This is my turf, remember?" He put the slightest bit of pressure on my hip. "I'll be fine. Go get your brother, angel. I've got this."

Giving him one last grin I took off down the shore line, keeping in the shadows of the trees. I kept low to the ground and out of the sight from the windows of the cabin, but the women inside seemed to engrossed in whatever prayer they were reciting now.

Rounding the cabin, I bolted under the balcony, frigid water splashing up my legs and seeping into my shoes. I pressed my back to one of the soft, wood planks and peered around the corner. No one was coming near the cabin. Even the ones at the head of the path looked completely unaware of me. But there were voices down river.

Right where Steve was.

Stepping back out into the fire light, I climbed up the railing over the balcony, wincing at the creaking in the wood. I had one leg swung over the beam when a gunshot went off behind me. I threw myself over the railing and rammed my back against the wall. Peering around the corner, I squinted to try and find Steve in the trees, but it was far too dark.

Shouting echoed from the place instead - until it didn't. Like everything had been abruptly cut off.

I scooped the pipe off the ground where I dropped it and crept towards the back door. It was paned with glass, letting the warm fire light spill onto the balcony. One of the doors was cracked open a bit, the jam rotted and damaged. I could hear them talking through it.

"- _regnum tuum: fiat voluntas tua in terris sicut in caelis. Accipe puerum et libera fratres immunda est spiritus. Accipe quod immundum factum mittere ignea infernum.__"_

Was that Latin?

"Lord have mercy," A single voice said.

"Lord have mercy," Three others repeated in unison.

I peered around through the glass, seeing into the room. It was clear of any furniture, the floors and walls scrubbed. Crucifixes dotted across the walls, fresh flowers pinned between them. There was a crate full of medicine bottles and knives in the corner. The floor had been painted with some kind of star -

Pentagram. It was a pentagram.

And being pinned down at the very center of it, was my little brother.

"From all evil, deliver us, oh Lord."

I couldn't see his face, but I recognized his shoes from where they stuck out underneath the first woman's gown. She was sitting on his chest, pinning both hands over his mouth to keep it shut. The other two were holding his arms down, the laurel wreath lady kneeling at the crown of his head. She was holding a syringe filled with clear liquid.

All of them were wearing rubber gloves.

"Deliver us, oh Lord," The other women parroted.

And she slid the needle into his neck.

"HEY!"

I threw my shoulder against the door, sending it flying open. They barely had time to look up before I reeled my arm back and batted the pipe against the first woman's shoulders. She toppled directly into the lady on her right.

"GET OFF MY BROTHER!"

Krel's eyes were wide and disoriented when they landed on me. His hair and clothes were damp. Fresh bruises were all up his arms, around his neck, and across his face. Two 'X' shaped cuts had been carved into either sides of his neck, a third just below his collar bone. Like the ones Steve had - only, much smaller.

He kept blinking, trying to pry himself up onto his elbows and scoot away. As though he could barely process me being here.

"Krel -"

I reached for him, but then arms locked around my waist and threw me back. I swung the pipe blindly, a second woman grabbing my kicking feet. For as petite as they were, they sure had a good grip.

I bucked a shrieked as they held me down, their gloved hands like cement against me. They were practiced, I realized. They'd done this before. They knew how to hold me down. I thrashed anyway, knowing all it would take was one brush of skin and I could get us both out of here.

I bet they'd never dealt with an Orange before.

Krel's frantic, sluggish version of my name brought my attention back to him. He was on his side, holding himself up on shaking elbows. I could see the life draining from his face. How desperately he was holding on to it as he panted for breath.

My eyes landed on the empty syringe beside him.

Oh God.

He reached for me with the last of his strength. I could see the same 'X's cut into his palms. Then his eyes rolled back, and he collapsed against the floorboards.

_"Krel!"_

Panic exploded in my chest, white spots blaring in my vision as I struggled to reach him. But the laurel wreath woman beat me to it, slipping her hands under his arms and dragging him into a hallway.

The third woman coming to lean over my head blocked my vision of them. She was holding something thick and black. I couldn't recognize what it was until it sent a shock through my side. My back arched, a spazzing pain firing through me as I twitched away from the taser

When I opened my mouth to scream, something slick and crinkled was shoved down into my throat by rubber hands. A plastic bag. Begin shoved further and further down. I couldn't breathe.

The third woman was suddenly holding the syringe over my face, muttering something in Latin while the others repeated it. Pain was still radiating from my side, stinging in a way that made every muscle in my abdomen cramp.

"From all evil, deliver us, oh Lord."

"Deliver us, oh Lo-"

My foot nailed one of them directly in the face. She went flying back, the entire left side of my body free from her weight. My hand shot up, catching the hand holding the needle, and then sliding up to grab her bare arm.

_SLEEP_, I screamed into her mind.

And she dropped.

Ripping the bag up out of my throat, I thrashed out of the last woman's arms, gasping for breath. She dove for the taser again but I kicked it out of her hands. So she dove at me.

I rolled out of the way, snatching the syringe from where it had dropped and stabbing it into her shoulder when she flew towards me a second time. Her eyes went wide, her body falling back to the floorboards as I ripped the needle out of her.

I don't know what's in it and I don't care. She put that into my brother. She deserved a taste of her own medicine.

My chest was heaving when I sat back from her. The third woman, the one I'd nailed in the face, was suddenly barreling towards me, one of the knives from the corner in her hand.

"Unholy demon from hell!" She screeched.

My hand flew out, groping for the pipe. The second my knuckles closed around it, I swung my arm around, smashing it across her face barely before she could tackle me. Her body went into the wall, drooping against the floorboards.

"You have no idea," I panted.

Prying myself up with the pipe, I staggered down into the hallway, my chest throbbing for air. My side was still cramping, like a thousand needles were wringing inside me, making me even more breathless. I gripped the pipe tighter, swallowing the pain as I continued down the candle lit hall.

There were two bedrooms, both looking dark and empty. But the bathroom and at the end of the hall had been filled with candles.

I held the pipe at the ready, half expecting Miss Laurel Wreath to come pouncing out of nowhere. But when I entered the bathroom, Krel was the only person I saw. Lying in the large bathtub, submerged beneath several feet of water, convulsing.

"Krel!" I shrieked.

The pipe clanged to the floor, tears blurring my eyes as I yanked his jerking body up from the water. His skin was absolutely freezing, his lips completely blue.

How long had he been in there?

A sob burst from my throat as I dragged him out of the tub, laying him out on the floor. By then his body had finally stopped jolting, going horribly still. I pressed two fingers to his cold, cut neck. Nothing.

Panic rose in the back of my throat, my fingers padding along his frigid skin. There had to be a pulse. There _had_ to be -

I turned my head and dropped my ear to his chest.

Nothing.

I didn't have any time to waste.

Swallowing the salt in my throat, I placed the heel of my palms against his sternum, throwing my body weight onto him as I began compressions. _Be sure your elbows remain locked_, Varvatos's voice said to me, one of the many times he'd tested me on my first aid ability. _One hundred compressions within a minute. Hum a song in your head if that aids you_.

Billy Joel's _Uptown Girl_ was suddenly flying through my head, my fists forcing Krel's chest up and down to the beat of the chorus. Thirty compressions in, I pinched his nose closed and blew two breaths into his mouth. Then right back to compressions.

My arms were burning. My side was screaming at me. Tears were stinging my cheeks raw. All the while my breaths were coming in choppy, trembling intervals.

"Come on," I pleaded. "Come _on_ _-"_

"In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost."

My head shot up. Miss Laurel Wreath was standing the doorway, an axe in her hands.

"May God have mercy on your souls."

And she swung the axe back.

I yanked Krel against my chest, bending my torso over him in the split second I had to react. I didn't even have time to scream.

And then -

_Thunk._

The woman crumpled to the floor, the axe sliding out of her hands.

I stared at her for a moment, almost unable to believe it was her. When my eyes finally darted back up to the doorway, Steve was standing there, a bit of red tingeing the barbed wire on his bat. There was a cut on his eyebrow.

"You okay?" He asked.

I didn't answer, too busy gasping at the air. I had to force my arms to release Krel back onto the ground they were so stiff with fear. My hands trembled when I put them back on his sternum, so much they ached against the pressure. But I didn't care.

Steve knelt at Krel's side. "Is he breathing?"

"No," I choked.

He shifted, glancing nervously over his shoulder. "Aja," He said. "We need to go."

I shook my head. "We need to get him breathing again."

"You go," He said. "I'll stay here with him. Eli taught me CPR, I can do it."

I pinched Krel's nose closed once again, breathing two more breaths into his mouth. "I'm not going anywhere."

Somewhere outside the cabin, voices started to shout. Three knocks thudded against the cabin door.

Steve tightened his grip on his bat "Aja -"

"Wake up, Krel," Another sob burst from my throat, tears dripping onto his shirt. "Please, please wake up."

Two more breaths.

"Let me take over," Steve pleaded. "You need to get out of here."

"I said I'm not going anywhere!"

I almost didn't notice the jolt at first, just the tiniest arch of his back. Then he did it again. Harder. I pulled my hands back, watching his shoulders jut forward, his neck bending back as water sputtered up from his mouth.

And he gasped for breath.

"Oh my -" I yanked him into my arms, feeling the way his ribs expanded as he breathed.

He was _breathing_.

"It's okay," I sobbed, hugging around his shoulders. "You're okay. I've got you. I've got you."

"Ah . . . ja . . ."

I leaned back, pulling him onto my lap. His eyes were barely fluttering open.

"I'm here," I ran a hand over his wet hair. "I'm right here."

His eyes kept rolling back, the lids stubbornly holding open. He was trying to stay awake. "Eh . . . uh . . ."

"What?" I leaned closer to him.

"Ehm . . . ah . . . uh . . ."

"I don't -" I shook my head. "Krel, what are you saying?"

His hand tugging on my waist prompted me to lean down, putting the shell of my ear right over his lips.

_"Emma . . ."_ He whispered.

"Emma? Is that," I leaned back, glancing at Miss Laurel Wreath. "Is that her name?"

His eyes rolled back a final time, his body slumping against my chest. And I held him. I held him and I didn't let go.

**(A/N): fun fact: the title of this chapter is a little jab at the very out of context clip of Riverdale that inspired this - anyone wanna guess what part it was?**


	35. 35

**I Do Not Like Where This Is Going**

Steve fingered the syringe mark on Krel's neck. "They drugged him."

"They cut him," I growled.

"He's gonna be fine," He said. "But we need to get out of here."

More shouting sounded from outside. Crashing and thudding. And a strange _whooshing_ sound.

"Now," Steve finished.

I nodded, passing Krel to Steve so he could ease him over his shoulder. We got to our feet, staggering out of the bathroom, me swiping the pipe off the floor - and the axe. Just in case.

When we got back out to the front room, the women were gone. The smell of smoke was hanging thickly in the air. And an orange glow was seeping in through the windows. That couldn't have been from the torches, could it?

"Hey."

We jumped at the voice, turning to see Toby standing before the back doors.

"Jimbo's got our bases covered," He said. "You guys comin' or what?"

We followed him out onto the balcony, climbing back down to shore. The path leading up to the cabin was full of fire, Jim at the head of it. The few creeps that dared near him didn't stand a chance.

I blinked at the scene, trying to take it in a single glance. Jim was so caring. So soft and so . . . dorky. Sometimes it was hard to believe how powerful he was.

"C'mon!" Toby beckoned as he ran to the river bank. "We gotta go!"

The three of us ran along the treeline, Krel bouncing over Steve's shoulder. The same adrenaline I had before was back, the desperate need to get back to Trollmarket. To get Krel and everyone else I'd dragged out here safe behind its sealed walls.

"Did you find Seamus's keystone?" Toby shouted to me.

"No," I shook my head. "But I know where Darci's is."

The run back was so much longer than I thought it would be. Every time I thought I would see the marker I set from where I'd hidden Darci's keystone, all that would appear was more grass, rocks, and shore. It seemed to go on forever.

Shouts and shots were heard behind us, the orange glow intensifying through the trees. Smoke was rising against the stars, the smell burning my nostrils.

"Is the dude gonna burn down the whole forest?" Steve panted beside me.

"No," Toby snapped back. "Jim can put out his own fires now, dilweed."

"Is anybody else out here?" I asked.

"Darci and some of the hunters are guarding the doors," He replied. "Does that count?"

"There!" I finally caught sight of the marker, barreling across the rocks. I ripped off the bulrushes and snatched up the keystone.

"Throw it here!" Toby waved his arms, heading closer to the door.

I wound my arm back, throwing it forward again and sent the keystone flying right over Toby's head. He leapt and crashed on his stomach trying to catch it.

"Yeesh," He mumbled as he grabbed it off the ground. "Calm down, Willie Mays."

I giggled as I caught up. "Sorry."

Darci was standing in the open doorway as we approached, holding a baseball bat of her own. Toby ran right into her arms, pressing the keystone into her hands. "TP!" She cried, hugging him back. "Where's Jim?"

"On his way," Toby assured her. "We ran ahead."

She looked back at me and Steve. Her eyes went wide. "You - you _actually_ found him? Is he okay?"

"We're taking him to the infirmary," I replied, shoving the pipe and the axe into her hands. And I pushed Steve into the tunnel.

It felt so strange to be running through Trollmarket after all of that. And not just because every kid still awake was staring at us with bugged eyes. The tips of my ears were numb from the sudden change in temperature. I could still smell the smoke that had stuck to my clothes. I could still feel the terrible cramping in my side.

But now Trollmarket was the backdrop for all of those things.

The infirmary was empty when we arrived, sprinting towards the table in the center of the room, a soft blanket laid over it for comfort. Steve eased Krel off his shoulder, setting him down with his back against the blanket.

I darted over to the cabinets, digging out a roll of gauze, a clean cloth, and a bottle of rubbing alcohol. Trickling the alcohol onto the rag, I tapped the damp cloth over Krel's cuts. The ones on his hands were still bleeding. So I wrapped both of his palms in as much gauze as I was allowed.

Steve ran two fingers along Krel's arm. "Was he this wet when he picked him up?"

"No," I sniffled, picking at the damp stain beginning on the front of his shirt. "He's sweating. Why is he sweating like this?"

Steve tilted his head. "Does it feel warm in here to you?"

I pressed my palm against his forehead. My stomach dropped. "He's burning up."

"I'll get water," Steve replied. "You get ice packs."

I gave him a single nod before turning and bolting back through the tunnels, towards Seamus's cabin. I ended up running smack into him as soon as I opened the door.

"Aja?" He cringed, rubbing his head. "Wait, you're - you're back?"

"Yep." I pushed past him, pulling out the bin of ice packs he kept under his bed.

"Uh, did you find Krel?"

"Yes," I grabbed one of the packs and headed for the door. "He's in the infirmary now."

Seamus followed me through the tunnel with wide eyes. "Is he okay?"

"He needs ice packs."

"What?" Seamus turned sideways as we walked. "Why does he need ice packs?"

"He has a fever."

I swung back into the infirmary, seeing Steve grimace over Krel, a full water bottle in his hands. I put a pack against Krel's burning forehead. "What's wrong?"

"Look at his mouth."

My eyes lowered, watching water drip over the corner of Krel's mouth and down his cheek. "Why did you give him so much water?"

"I didn't give him any," Steve replied. "He's drooling."

"What?" I grabbed a cloth off the counter, holding against his cheek to stanch the moisture. "Why would he salivate this much?"

"Aja?"

I smelled Jim before I saw him. The thick scent of smoke and wood, so strong it burned my nose. When I turned I saw Jim in the doorway, flanked by Blinky and Toby, arms folded.

His armor was smoking and covered with soot. The ends of his hair were singed. There was a small burn on his cheek. And his face was pulled down in a stern expression, one that I'd never seen him wear before. Something between disappointment and scolding.

I felt myself deflate under his gaze. I opened my mouth to say something but nothing came out.

"I told you not to do anything stupid," Jim said, his voice flat.

I straightened my shoulders again. "And I told you I wasn't going to abandon my brother."

"Do you realize what you've done?" He retorted. "Those creeps saw where we were coming from. Once they recover, they'll be back here for us. And now I've got an unsealed entrance to worry about. You put the secrecy of Trollmarket at risk."

I looked away.

"There was a better way to do this," He said. "We could've figured out a plan together -"

"No, we couldn't have," I kept my voice straight and steady. Just like Mama's. "If I hadn't intervened when I did - if I hadn't _left_ when I did, then we wouldn't have been able to save him at all."

"She's right," Steve said behind me. "By the time we got there, the creeps already had him drugged and drowned in a bathtub. We're lucky we got him breathing again."

No one said anything for a minute.

Jim stepped forward. "Aja -"

I held up my hand to stop him. "I know I broke the rules, Jim. I stole Darci's keystone. I left during a lockdown. And -" I glanced back at Steve. "And I know I put all of you in danger when I forced you to come after me. And I accept the consequences. But I did what I had to for my brother and I'd do it again."

Jim's face softened, a flicker of shock in his face. Toby's eyes widened, his mouth opening as he looked back and forth between me and Jim. Blinky gave him a gentle smile.

"What?" I asked.

Blinky looked at me. "Master Jim said the same words when he came out of the Darklands."

I blinked, glancing at Jim. He let out a deep exhale, his eyes lowering with his shoulders. But when he looked back up at me, the sternness was gone. "I'm sorry I didn't trust your urgency."

"I'm sorry I revealed your secret hideout."

He gave me a small smile. "I'm glad you're okay."

"I'm glad you're okay, too," I replied. "All of you."

"Speaking of which," Jim looked over my shoulder. "Is Krel okay? He was with them all day. Do we know what they did to him?"

"Kinda," Steve shrugged, still holding the rag against Krel's cheek. "Judging by all the bruising, he put up a pretty decent fight. Plus them keeping everyone else out of the cabin."

"What about during the day?"

"I dunno," He shrugged. "Probably had him tied up in the cabin the whole time. Maybe made him listen to scripture-shit. Dunked him in the river a few times. Things like that."

Jim touched the gauze on Krel's wrist. "What are the cuts for?"

"Part of the ritual."

Suddenly, Krel's neck jolted back, a horrible strangled sound coming from his throat as he tried to breathe. More saliva frothed over his lower lip, sputtering out as he gagged.

"Woah, woah," Jim rounded the table, turning Krel's head to the side to keep him from choking. "Uh . . . is there a reason he's so sweaty?"

"I - I don't know," I said. "They gave him something - something in a needle."

"What?" Darci appeared in the doorway. "You mean like date-rape?"

"Probably," Steve shrugged. "It's a cheap, easy sedative. Goblins use it all the time."

"People don't react to sedatives like this," Jim said. "Something's wrong."

"Maybe he's allergic to it."

"No," I shook my head. "Krel doesn't have any allergies, at least none that we know of."

He made another sound, another strangled gasp as his chest caved. Suddenly, his breathing was like the sound sandpaper makes when its used. His ribs were rapidly constricting beneath his damp shirt. When I reached for his hand, it was clammy and unnaturally warm.

"Help me get him on his side," Jim said.

Releasing Krel's hand, I rounded the table and tugging him over by his shoulder. Jim and I eased him onto his left arm, spreading out his limbs to balance him. It seemed to help a little with his breathing, but not enough to silence the sandpaper sound.

"Yeesh," Toby grimaced behind us. "He sounds like a dying lawn mower."

I slipped my hand into his, feeling how hot and sticky it was as I seated myself on the lip of the table. He looked so pale. So weak and pained. The cuts on his neck were dying the skin around them a greenish blue. The syringe mark was swelling red. I lifted his hand and held it under my chin.

"Something's wrong," I shook my head. "This isn't an allergic reaction. There had to have been something else they gave him," I glanced back at Steve. "What else did they give him?"

"Uh . . ." He glanced to the side, rubbing the back of his neck. "I guess there could've been stuff mixed in with the date-rape -"

"Like what?" The words came out harsher than I meant them.

"I dunno!" He threw up his hands. "Creeps aren't exactly brainiacs! Sometimes they use dirty needles. Sometimes their drugs are homemade and weird. But it never really matters since the kid usually ends up dead in the next five minutes."

"So it could be anything?" I swallowed the salt in my throat. "Is that what you're saying?"

His face softened. "Aja -"

"What can we do?" I looked at Jim, forcing my voice not to shake.

Jim opened his mouth but nothing came out. "I -"

Krel lurched on the table, his body convulsing forward onto his stomach. Bits and bile bubbled up over his lips, splattering across the blanket and slapping against the floor.

"Oh my God -" I leapt forward, holding his hair back and keeping him securely on the table while he retched. Steve snatched the small trash can from the corner and held it beneath his chin to catch the vomit.

Darci took the cloth once he'd finished and wiped his mouth clean, helping me turn him back onto his side. Krel's eye lids were fluttering wildly, giving me glimpses of his brown eyes as they rolled back and forth. His entire body was shivering. His breathing went from gravely to choppy, as though it were impossible to get enough air.

I pressed my knuckles to his forehead. "His fever's gotten worse -"

"Fever?"

I turned back, seeing Seamus step into the room. His movements were stiff and jointed, his face guarded. But I could see the concern behind his eyes. The small, subconscious movement of his hands reaching forward.

"Why would he have a fever?"

"We don't know," Darci replied. "Something's definitely haywire though."

His face became more and more like stone the closer he got to the table. The color left his cheeks. An odd kind of anger flickered in his eyes. His hand reached out to touch Krel's shoulder, but he pulled back before he could.

"There's got to be something we can do," I looked up at Darci. "Right?"

She cringed while she thought. "We can use the ice packs to help his fever but if we don't even know what they gave him . . ."

"What if we could figure out what he needs -"

"What he needs is a hospital," Darci threw a hand towards him. "Or at least a doctor. I mean, look at him. He needs medicine - those weird IV things. I have gauze and neosporin. I - I'm sorry."

Tears clouded over my vision, a prick of panic in my chest as I clutched Krel's hand under my chin again. There had to be something we could do. Something we could figure out -

"Maybe we won't need to do anything," Jim blurted. "So the needle was dirty or the drugs were weird, but whatever it is, Krel might get over it on his own -"

"And what if he doesn't?" I threw back at him, tears in my eyes. "What do we do then?"

He took a few steps towards me, resting a comforting hand on my shoulder. "I'm sorry," He said. But he didn't need to.

I could see how much he understood in his eyes. How he'd felt this kind of pain everyday as he watched Claire deteriorate. How he knew no words were going to take that pain away.

I clutched Krel's hand tighter.

"Stay with your brother for tonight, Miss Aja," Blinky said. "Perhaps we can think of a way to help him by morning."

"Perhaps," I whispered.

"Master Jim, we need to attend to the security of Trollmarket."

Jim stiffened, as if just realizing the problem I'd caused. The impending inevitability of creeps attacking.

"We need to fortify the door," He nodded, stepping away from me. "We need to station the hunters - Steve, could you help me round them up?"

Steve hesitated, throwing me a glance. I gave him a small nod in reply. Then he followed Jim and Blinky out the doorway. Toby went after them, running over to grab Darci's hand and pull her along.

And I was alone.

"Can I sit here?" Seamus asked me.

Okay, maybe not completely alone.

"Yes."

Pulling a chair up beside the table, Seamus lowered himself into it, playing with the edge of the blanket with nervous fingers.

"This just doesn't make sense," I murmured. "Why would he leave? He knew it wasn't safe. He knew -" I had to close my mouth before the sob came out.

Seamus didn't answer. And as insignificant as it was, it made me want to scream. I'd been given enough of these goddamn puzzles. For once, I wanted an answer. But all I got was silence.

We sat there with Krel for the majority of the night, listening to his raspy and gasping breaths. My knuckles were white around his clammy hand. And Seamus could not stop tapping on the surface of the table. _One-two-three_. _One-two-three_. Again and again.

Neither of us said much. Our heads were too full for that. All I could think was the memory of this morning. The way Krel had looked so blurry through my sleepy eyes. The way his voice had sounded. The tiny pinch on my scalp when he'd tugged on my hair.

_I'll see you at breakfast._

What if I never saw him at breakfast again?

The clock read midnight when the ice pack on Krel's forehead went warm.

"I'll get him another one," I muttered under my breath, working to release his hand. "You'll stay with him?"

It felt wrong to leave Krel alone again. Even if it would only be for a few minutes.

Seamus gave me a solemn nod.

I wanted to say something more to him, and I could tell he wanted to say something more to me. Some words of comfort maybe. Something to make this seem lighter than it was. But neither of us could think of a single word, so I turned away all the same.

Something caught my eye.

Just as I was pivoting towards the door, a little flash of light had popped up in my peripherals. I turned my head back, trying to catch it again. Just the slightest trick of the light -

There it was again. Right under the folds of Seamus's jacket. Something smooth and orange was tucked there, barely peeking out of the seam.

A keystone.

Seamus had a keystone on him. Now that I was looking, I could see it bulging under the fabric. Was that his own keystone? The one Jim and Toby haven't found yet? Why would he hide it from them? He knows how they're scrambling to fortify Trollmarket. He knows the danger of having an unsealed entrance.

Why was he hiding it?

I turned and headed out into the main tunnel before he could catch me staring. Kids were running back and forth to gather weapons and barriers for the door. All the little ones were being herded into the deepest tunnels for safety. There were a thousand sounds and faces, blurring past me.

But all I saw was the keystone in Seamus's jacket.

Where did he even _get_ it?

He wasn't by the entrance when we got here. He was in his cabin. Toby said it was the hunters and Darci that were watching the doors anyway, so how would he have gotten it?

Unless -

Unless Krel gave it back to him.

I stopped walking.

Could Seamus have . . . _told_ Krel to leave? The keystone he'd used was Seamus's. The one that had been hidden to avoid this exact situation. How had Krel known where to find it unless Seamus had given it to him?

My heart was suddenly pounding. The sound of blood rushing in my ears drowning everything out. There was still an odd bit of guilt twisting inside me. Seamus wasn't the easiest person to get along with, but he wouldn't do this. He helped get Jim out of the Darklands. He made all of Trollmarket possible. He wouldn't hurt Krel like this.

Would he?

I swallowed the bitter lump growing in my throat, forcing my feet to keep moving. Seamus had to have given Krel that keystone, and Krel had to have given it back. Seamus was the most likely person to have access to Krel's computer. He could've pulled the password right out of Krel's head if he wanted to.

Was he the one that wiped it?

_I'm going to trace the source myself tomorrow._

Krel said Seamus was unable to track the source of Eli's essay because his computer was faulty. But, what if it was something else? And Krel realized it when he traced it himself and then Seamus somehow convinced him to leave to cover it up.

Or maybe he didn't convince him.

Seamus knew Krel wasn't stupid. And Krel knew the danger creeps posed. He would not have willingly left. But with Seamus's power, Krel wouldn't have to be willing.

_He didn't even say anything. It was creepy as hell._

I shook my head, pushing my back against the corner of an empty tunnel. I was getting carried away. Seamus wouldn't hurt Krel like that. I could see how much they liked each other, anyone could. He wouldn't.

_Would he?_

What if . . . what if he never meant for Krel to get hurt? Creeps wait until night to do any real damage. Maybe he thought we would've found him by then.

Is he the one that drew the map?

I took a deep breath, cutting off the thought there. It was almost too much. All the puzzle pieces were suddenly, _finally_ fitting. But not in the way I wanted them to. Not in a way that felt right.

What could Seamus possibly have to hide?

The message was fake, yes. But why would someone send us a fake message? And why did he try to cover it up? If it was nothing more than a faulty computer -

Wait.

Anne. She fixed things. Like Eli had. She was literally his replacement. The morning after she died, Seamus's computer was fixed. She must've done it for him that night. Had she discovered the same thing Krel had? And to keep her quiet -

"No." I said it out loud, shaking my head over and over. No, Seamus wouldn't. No one here would. But it would be so easy for him to reach inside her. So easy for him to reach inside Krel -

I raked my fingers through my hair. This was a rollercoaster and for the first time in my life, I wanted off. Seamus had means and opportunity to do this. Someone so close to us - so close to Krel - to have done this?

_Why?_

That one piece was still missing. If Seamus did this. If he forced Anne to jump off that ledge and forced Krel to walk into a camp full of creeps. What was it all for? What kind of secret justified this kind of action?

I turned my head, looking down the tunnel to see the curtain that hung over the library at the very end of it.

One way to find out.

I didn't tip-toe down the tunnel, I marched. I looked like I knew where I was going and I did. Anyone who saw could deal with it. The curtain flew behind me as I shoved past it, striding directly to the desk. To the multitude of information cluttered there.

My eyes scanned over the papers covering the walls and desk. All equations. Charts. Diagrams. No mysteries, only carefully crafted answers. A secret worth killing people wouldn't be out here in the open for all to see. It would be somewhere hidden. But somewhere easily disposable should the situation become desperate.

My fingers ran over the surface of Krel's laptop.

Seamus wouldn't destroy months of work for no reason. But the reality was that he had. The information I was looking for was now somewhere else.

I looked at Seamus's laptop. It was open, but the screen had gone black from lack of use. I swiped my pointer finger over the mouse pad and watched it come back to life. Password protected.

Of course.

I lowered myself down into the seat, tapping my fingers on the edges of the keyboard. There was no where else Seamus could've hidden his secret - if he even had one. But I wasn't the hacker Krel was and I didn't have time to pretend to be.

I glanced back at Krel's laptop. Why would he even hide it there? It would be on his own computer first. Somewhere close to his chest.

Unless, of course, it was.

If Krel could hack terrorists at twelve years old, he could hack Seamus's laptop. He must've sent whatever he found to his own computer for safe keeping. Extra proof. Therefore Seamus was forced to erase it.

But again, I wasn't the hacker Krel was. There was no cutting corners - or hinges - this time. I raked my fingers through my hair, leaning my elbows on the desk. Even if there wasn't a short cut, there still had to be a way in. Some trick I'd learned from watching Krel. Some kind of clue I could remember -

Wait.

Leaning forward, I typed four letters into the password bar: E - M - M - A

The screen went to the homepage.

I smiled. Thanks, little brother.

The first thing I looked through was the recorded history. If Krel was on this computer, he could have left a trail for me to follow.

And left a trail he did.

The first abnormal thing was an email address I didn't recognize. But we weren't supposed to be sending emails anyway. It could jeopardize the safety of Trollmarket, even when using Krel's program. Besides, there was no reason to.

So what was Seamus's reason?

Scrolling through the drafts, I found several versions of Eli's essay. All of them had been written by Seamus. This is how Krel had found out, I realized. He tracked the source to Seamus's computer and decided to go looking through it.

I knitted through the files, looking for a reason. Seamus wouldn't send us a fake essay without one. What was he trying to hide?

Then I found it.

The real message Eli had sent. Another essay on _All Quiet On The Western Front_, this time with accurate information and a completely different message. He'd been separated from the others. He was still in Jersey, trying to get back to Lakewood. He needed our help.

Tears sprung to my eyes. Eli needed us. He'd called us for help. And Seamus had covered it up.

I had half a mind to get Steve and go to find Eli now, damn what Jim says. But something was holding me back. _It's like working backwards_, Krel's voice said to me, the time he'd tried explaining how a rubik's cube worked. _To solve it, you have to figure out how it became unsolved in the first place. Then you work it back piece by piece._

Seamus did this, I knew that now. But I still needed to know why.

I went back to the history, scrolling through more files. Different, unfamiliar diagrams. Maps of places nowhere near Lakewood. Seamus was working on something other than Trollmarket. _For_ something other than Trollmarket.

"Come on," I whispered to myself. "Think."

What could Seamus have to gain from keeping Eli away? Protection? If Anne really did realize what he was doing when she fixed his computer, maybe Eli posed the same threat. But that didn't -

Or.

Maybe it wasn't about keeping Eli away. Maybe it was about keeping us here.

I found a chat room, behind an encrypted file Krel had already hacked open for me. Seamus had been talking to people outside of Trollmarket.

No, not people. Just one person. Somebody tagged 'M'.

The conversation wasn't really a conversation at all. It was images of diagrams of Trollmarket. Longitude and Latitude sequences. Code words. Amounts of supplies. A recording of how many kids were here, organized by color.

And a phrase - continually appearing in the conversation: The Eternal Night.

_[M]: Get what is needed for the Eternal Night_

_[M]: The pawn has been used for the Eternal Night_

_[M]: Is the Akiridion ready for the Eternal Night?_

I perked up at that word. 'Akiridion'.

Were they . . . were they talking about me?

I thought back to all the things Seamus had taught me. All the long sessions of him studying my head and training me to study others. To manipulate. Trick. Gain control. Was he . . . preparing me for something? This 'Eternal Night'?

"What?" I whispered to myself. The way they spoke about it - whatever it was - it was a plan. Some kind of action they were preparing for. But for what? What was Seamus trying to do?

I hit the bottom of the chat, seeing the most recent messages. They had been sent five hours ago.

_[M]: Are you ready for the Eternal Night?_

_[Seamus]: Yes_

_[M]: All ends have been cut?_

_[Seamus]: Yes_

_[Seamus]: The Akiridion is unprepared_

_[M]: No matter. Is the Sorceress prepared?_

_[Seamus]: Yes_

_[M]: The Eternal Night comes at dawn_

_[M]: And the Trollhunter will be mine_

The Trollhunter.

'M'.

"Morgana," I whispered.

_Oh God_ -

"Aja?"

I whipped around in my seat. Seamus was standing in the doorway.

I snapped the laptop closed. "Uh - what are you doing here?"

"You didn't come back for a while," Seamus's face was completely guarded as he made his way towards me. "I wanted to see if you were okay."

My entire body was stiff. "I'm fine."

"What are you doing?"

"Um," I swallowed, watching Seamus approach. "I was just looking to see . . . if maybe Krel had a reason for leaving. I mean, he knew it was dangerous. And he always thinks things through. I guess I just thought, maybe he left a clue as to why he ran away."

Seamus lifted the laptop off the desk, balancing it in his hands as he glanced at me.

"I know it is your property -"

He opened the laptop.

"And I'm sorry," I blurted. "I guess I just . . . got excited."

"Well what do you know," He looked over the screen at me, raising an eyebrow. "You are as clever as your brother."

Hot anger snapped in my chest. Without another word, I charged at him. Flying forward so fast my eyes watered. Blood was roaring in my ears. My fists felt like they were on fire as I sent them at his face. But Seamus didn't try to block me.

He didn't need to.

My fist was inches away from his cheek when it froze. Every muscle in my arm seized, cramps of pain rocketing up into my shoulder. My second hand reached out to grab my rigid wrist, trying to force it to move. But then every part of me was seizing.

Locking up and retching with pain, like someone was electrocuting me from the inside out. I tried to scream but my throat was being pinched closed. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't see past the white spots in my vision. I couldn't control my own limbs.

The ground was hard when I hit it, the sting radiating from the inside out. I trembled as I fought back, trying to get back up. Trying to run. To scream, to suck in, to _move_.

But I couldn't.

"Wha-at -" I gasped, barely squeaking the word out. "Wh-what is-s thi-is -?"

"Oh Aja," Seamus's voice said. His smirk came into view. "You should've learned all the tricks before you turned against the master."

Then, as though he'd flipped a light switch, the world went black.

**(A/N): *evil maniacal laughter fades into the distance***


	36. 36

**Look Him In The Eye Aim No Higher**

After living underground for so long, I'd forgotten how scratchy dirt can feel. Having it rub raw against my face was a nice reminder.

At first it was just my eyes that were awake. Looking forward and seeing the rough, black surface of my skateboard, still tucked beneath the desk from when I'd ridden it in here at dinner.

Then my mouth and my tongue woke up, letting me taste how papery my mouth was. Then my shoulders. My arms and hands. Legs took longer, but I got them there. I could feel everything again. But when I tried to move, it was like my veins had been filled with lead. My body was too heavy to lift.

I struggled anyway, gritting my teeth and forcing myself to move. I had to warn Jim. I had to get back to Krel -

"You know, I'd tell you to stop fighting, but it kinda feels good."

I forced my heavy head up, prying my chest off the ground with my palms. I was sprawled out on my stomach, the ground scraping against my hips as I strained to look up.

Seamus was sitting as his desk, scrolling through his laptop with a content smile on his face. He looked so relaxed. So casual with his feet up on the desk.

"Son of a bitch," I hissed. But my voice was barely loud enough for me to hear.

"Well that's rude," Seamus tossed me a glance. "You've only met my dad."

"I was talking about your dad."

He raised an eyebrow at me for a moment. Then looked back at his screen. "Well, it's not like you're wrong."

"What did you do," I growled, "to my brother?"

He let out a low chuckle. "Not what I'm gonna do to you."

"What the hell is going on?" I strained my voice louder, but it was like my vocal chords were being pinched. "What have you done, Seamus?"

He scoffed. "Someone like you couldn't possibly understand."

"Oh really?" I rasped. "I understand that Krel found out you've been talking to Morgana, so you sent him to be eaten alive by creeps. Sound about right?"

A shadow passed over his face. "It was never supposed to go that far."

"So you drew me a map," I said. "Oh, that makes it all better."

He didn't answer.

"What's happening at dawn?" I croaked. My throat felt like it was coated in sand. "What's Morgana going to do with Trollmarket?"

Seamus cracked another smile. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

"Why are you doing this?" I asked. "I'm your friend -"

"You thought we were friends?" He scoffed again. "Why? 'Cause we went to middle school together? 'Cause we're the same color? God, you are so naive."

"What about Krel?" I threw back. "He wasn't your friend?"

He looked back at the screen.

"Answer me, bastard."

Just like that, my throat completely closed up, my breathe cut off then and there. My body rung with pain as it began jolting again, forcing me to get up on my hands and knees. My shoulder blades began knocking in and out of place. My back arching till my neck flew back and I was staring at the ceiling.

"Let's remember who's calling the shots here," Seamus said. "Fascinating, isn't it? It's almost like puppeteering. Like every part of the brain is attached to a string, and when I give it a pull . . ."

My throat opened again, so hard and so fast it hurt. But the oxygen was worth it.

"I control every move you make," He said. "So go ahead, struggle all you want. It's only because I'm letting you."

"You're sick," I gasped. "We trusted you. _Krel_ trusted you - and you just threw him away."

Seamus glowered back at me. "I saved his damn life."

"No," I growled. "That's what _I_ did."

"You don't know you're talking about," He spat. _"Akiridion."_

"I know you're a liar," I retorted. "And I know you're willing to kill to cover it up."

His face became stone, something solemn behind his eyes. "I didn't kill Anne."

"You honestly expect me to believe that?"

"I know you found the clip," Seamus raised a knowing eyebrow. "Do I really need to spell out what it means for you?"

A pit fell in my stomach, my body suddenly all the more weak. "No . . ." I shook my head. "Claire wouldn't . . . she's not capable -"

"You have no idea what Claire is capable of," Something dark flashed in his eyes. "You're lucky I got Krel the hell out of here before she stepped in."

"All this time," I looked back up at him. "You haven't been helping her. You've been making it worse. We've been looking for a black hole behind a locked door, but it was never there. It's been inside _you_. You're her link to Morgana."

The easy smile returned to his face. "You two really are clever. Too clever for your own good."

"At least we know where our loyalties lie."

"Get off your high horse, Tarron," He snapped. "Quit talking like you're any different."

"I am _nothing_ like you."

"Of course you are," A grin spread across his face. Cold and uncaring. "You and me? We're cut from the same cloth. The same kind of mess the world turned us into. It wouldn't have taken you long to see that."

"I don't care about your damn mind games," I barked. "What is Morgana going to do with Trollmarket? Tell me your plan!"

"I'll tell you my plan of getting Krel to a hospital once it's over," He replied. "Just so, you know, you don't worry about him."

"What are you talking about?" I asked. "What are you going to do with me?"

"As much fun as it would be to use you," He glowered down at me. "You've proven you're too nosy to be controlled. That was Anne's problem too. All I asked for was a simple repair, and she decided to take it upon herself to go through all my encrypted files."

"And you let her die for it," I seethed.

"She was a loose end to cut," He closed the laptop, setting it on the desk. "And now, so are you."

"You're going to kill me," I breathed.

"No," He reached for one of the shelves, moving around its contents to reveal a thirty-five millimeter handgun hidden there. He held it out to me. "You're going to kill you."

Suddenly my legs were cramming underneath me, nausea flowering up as I rose. My back buckled, ricketing as it straightened. My arms flailed out at my sides for balance, but they didn't need to. It was like my feet were planted in concrete. I wasn't going anywhere.

My arm cramped as my elbow locked, twists of pain straining across my skin. My hand opened and my arm raised. I struggled and trembled, sweat rolling down my neck as I watched my shaking hand close around the gun.

Horror went frigid inside me. "No . . ." I choked. "N-no."

"Don't fight me, Tarron," He moved his hands to his hips. "There really isn't a point."

The hard, cool end of the gun pressed under my chin. My fingers spazzed across the handle, the index finger creeping closer to the trigger.

_"No!"_ I tried to scream, but it came out a hoarse whisper.

My free hand latched onto my wrist, desperately trying to wrench the gun out from under my jaw. But I was struggling against my own strength, stuck at a stalemate.

"It'll be such a tragedy," Seamus clicked his tongue. "One suicide after another. Jim's gonna go nuts blaming himself for it."

"Shut up!" I shrieked.

"They probably won't even be able to find your body until after everything's over," He continued. "But it'll be clear what happened."

"They'll never believe it!" I panted, ripping at the gun in my hand. "My friends know me. They know I wouldn't do this."

He shrugged. "I got everyone to believe Anne would."

"One unexplained death is an anomaly. But three?" A dry chuckle pulled out of me. "That's a pattern, Seamus."

"Krel isn't going to die," He spat back.

"He'll know what you've done," I hissed. "Even if you wipe his mind, he'll figure it out again. They all will."

"Will they?" He gave me a pitiful look. "Or will they to be too busy mourning their friend? Their disturbed, broken friend?"

"They know I can handle being broken."

"Maybe," He tilted his head from side to side. "But will they once I tell them about Thurmond? About all the things you couldn't tell anyone but me during our sessions?"

I felt all the color drain from my face. "What are you talking about?"

"How PSFs would torment you . . . _intimately."_

_"What?"_

"How they experimented on you, but didn't leave any scars."

"That never happened!"

"And then the idea of pressing on without your brother?" Seamus shook his head. "It was just too much for you to handle."

"We're not even supposed to have guns!" I cried. "How are you gonna explain that, you son of a bitch!"

"Jim knows I have it," He said. "We keep it around just in case. It's really too bad you were able to pull its location out of my head."

"Krel will never believe you!" I gasped. "He'll never believe a single word you say!"

The easy smile returned yet again. "Oh, Aja."

My vision bled out suddenly, my mind falling into a memory. Seamus's memory. I was looking at Krel's blushing face, only lit by the stars as he gripped the telescope with both hands. He blushed even deeper when Seamus leaned forward to kiss him.

And Krel kissed back.

"I think we both know he will."

A raw, hoarse scream ripped from my throat, molten tears pouring down my face. My legs were locked. My back was clamped into place. I was frozen and trembling against greasy, invisible hands inside me. And I was swallowed by panic.

Throwing my mind at his was a last resort. Taking my own invisible hands and thrusting them out with all the strength I was allowed. I clawed at his hold on me, feeling how deep and intricate it was. How impossible it was. And I tore at him anyway.

Seamus let out an annoyed sigh. "What did I tell you about struggling?"

"Why are you doing this?" I asked. "If I'm going to die, I want to know what for!"

He laughed. _Laughed_. "How about for how damn naive you are?"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"I can't believe Morgana ever thought you were ready," He rolled his eyes. "That you would actually have what it takes."

My fingers were ringing with pain, like a thousand needles going all the way down my arm. _Inside_ my arm. My index finger inched closer to the trigger. "What?"

"You're weak," He said. "Completely helpless. And hilariously, _pathetically_ weak."

My voice went even with rage. "You said I was strong."

He smiled. "I lied."

"You were supposed to teach me," I spat.

"Then here's your last lesson, Tarron," He began pacing around me in a circle. "You are alone and you always will be. If you weren't so stupid, you would've figured it out by now, but since it's beyond you, let me spell it out: _you will never be able to control your abilities_. Because there's some part of you that doesn't want to. Not when it would mean having to embrace them. You're too much of a coward to use them the way they're meant to be used because you're too scared of what they will make you."

I had no words.

"Don't you get it, Tarron?"

He continued his parade around me. I could feel his pull on me waver. He was only keeping me around long enough to crush me beneath his heel.

"You hate what you are, but you were given these abilities for a reason. We both were. It's our _right_ to use them - to stay ahead. To keep the others in their place."

"I am not weak," I said, forcing myself into his mind to prove it.

But when I tried kicking in his door, it was suddenly made of steel. That didn't mean I stopped banging on it though. I pushed with everything inside me, cutting and smashing against him. Pushing him away until blood poured over my lips.

"Yes," He came to stand behind me, talking into my ear. "You are. You were born weak, and you are going to die weak."

My finger curled over the trigger, a burst of panic going through my chest. More tears came down my face, but not out of fear. Out of fury. I didn't care if I made it out of this one, all I cared about was taking Seamus down with me. So I pushed with everything I had, burning and pulsing and cutting him out of me.

But I was never good at blocking him out.

"I am not -"

"Again," He said. "What did I say about struggling?"

A heat began rising in my chest, rolling and bubbling within me.

"You are weak."

It burst like a firework, filling my whole torso and going down my legs.

"You are alone."

My shoulders and my chest were full of it. Pulsing and growing as it reached my throat.

"And you are helpless next to me. So stop fighting. Spoiled little princesses like you weren't born to be fighters."

Then it reached down to my hands.

"Not princess," For the first time since I woke up, my voice raised. "_Akiridion_. And I'm a quick study."

And I whipped around and cracked the butt of the gun against Seamus's head.

It was like the bands in my arms had snapped free. The chains locking inside me cracking to nothing. I could actually feel the force of it, rippling through me like a whip. And my body was mine again.

Seamus cried out, tumbling to the side from the force of the blow. But before he could even _begin_ to recover, I spun on my heel and roundhouse kicked him into one of the shelves. Then I did it again. And again. And again.

"I can take you down -"

I stooped down to where my skateboard was tucked under the desk, letting the gun clatter to the floor. Seamus gripped the shelf to pry himself up, stepping towards me. But before he could get inside, I charged.

_"- and I don't need mind powers to do it!"_

With one swing, I broke my skateboard over his head.

Seamus went flying to the ground, along with the other half of my board. His head cracked over the corner of the shelf as he fell, landing him in a crumpled heap with blood trickling from his temple. He didn't get up.

I stood there for a moment, clutching one half of my board as I panted. Every muscle in my body was still cramping, echoing with pain. But it was mine again. There were no invisible hands. No greasy chains. No Orange. No doors. I was just . . . me.

I was free.

Finally, free.

The half of my skateboard clattered to the ground. I dove for the gun, shoving it into the pocket of my jacket. Then I swiped Seamus's laptop off the desk and bolted from the tunnel.

**(A/N): this was low key one of my favorite conversations to write, i just loved playing with their dynamics you know?**


	37. 37

**Boom Boom Shake The Room Say Whaaaaaa**

**(A/N): hehe, it totally hasnt been forever **

"Jim!" I screamed, for real this time. It was so satisfying to hear. To feel the stretch in my vocal chords as I used them.

_I was free._

I bolted across the main tunnel, feeling the wide eyes of the few kids there go to me. I probably looked about as frantic as I felt. Blood pouring from my nose and down my chin. My entire body shimmering with sweat, my clothes stained with it.

When I burst into the office, Jim was sitting behind his massive desk, one hand propping up his chin as he fought to stay awake. Toby leaning over in a chair, completely asleep and snoring loudly. And Blinky was beside Jim, trying to explain something without falling over.

"- a batallion could circle back and then -"

"Jim!" I slammed the laptop down on his desk.

His head shot up. Toby flew right out of the chair, crying out as he dropped to the floor. Blinky jumped back so hard his head bonked against the wall.

"Oh, Aja," It took a moment for Jim to recover, rubbing his neck. "Thanks goodness. We could really use your help with this - are you okay?"

"No," I panted, shaking my head. "But I know what happened. To Krel and to Anne."

Jim exchanged an uneasy glance with Blinky. "I know how concerned you are about Krel, I do, but the protection of Trollmarket takes precedent for now. The lives of everyone here depends on it."

"But you don't understand -"

"We will discuss the strange occurrences at a later date, Miss Aja," Blinky nodded alongside Jim, something grave in his eyes. "A safer date."

"We really could use your help with the whole . . ." Toby sat up and squinted at Jim. "What were we doing again?"

My eyes rolled back. "Oh for love of . . ." And I smacked the gun onto the table.

Jim became very still. Everyone did. For several seconds, there was nothing but sleep deprived silence.

Toby gave Jim a nervous glance. "Uh . . ."

"Where did you get that?" Jim asked, raising his eyes to mine.

"Seamus gave it to me," I said. "Right before he tried to make me shoot myself with it."

Jim's face went pale, his eyes darting to Blinky. Both him and Toby looked completely floored. Like they were too horrified to believe me, but they still knew it was true.

"Seamus," Jim finally managed. "Tried to _what?"_

"He's a psychopath and a liar," I flipped open the laptop. "And I can prove it."

I showed them everything. From the fake essay to the chat with Morgana. How he'd been worsening Claire's condition - how he'd been her black hole. How he'd let Anne be killed for what she knew. And how he sent Krel away for what he knew.

I could tell none of them wanted to believe it. And to be perfectly honest, neither did I. Especially the part about Anne. And _especially_ the part about Claire. But the proof was all there. None of us could deny it.

"We trusted him," Jim buried his face in his hands.

"Damn," Toby shook his head. "I knew something was off about that guy but -"

"Miss Aja," Blinky said. "How did you obtain this information?"

"Krel gave me the password to Seamus's computer before he went unconscious," I said. "And I knew something was wrong when I saw him hiding the keystone from you. Everything else just kind of, fell into place."

Jim glanced up at me from the screen. "Are you sure you're okay?"

I hesitated, feeling the way my hands shook. But then my shoulders straightened and my chin lifted, just the way Mama's would. "Yes." I said, my voice steady and strong. "I'm fine."

"Why would Seamus write a fake essay?" Toby asked. "I mean I know he likes homework, but still."

I swallowed, bracing for the emotion twisting inside me. "Because Eli _did_ send us a message, Seamus was only trying to cover it up. Eli's essay was a call for help. He never made it out of Jersey and was separated from the other kids he was traveling with. He wanted us to come find him."

Jim had straight horror in his eyes. ". . . What?"

"What's the guy got against Pepperjack?"

"It's not about Eli," I said. "It's about us - about keeping us here. Morgana and Seamus are planning an attack on Trollmarket and they want all of us present for it."

Jim almost fell over. "What? _When?"_

"Today," I grimaced. "At dawn."

"It's like," Toby's wide eyes darted to the clock. "Almost five."

How much time did we have left?

Jim dropped back into his seat, leaning over the desk with his fists against his eyes. A low, frustrated groan ripped from his throat, his fingers digging into his hair. He looked so exhausted. So _finished_. He'd given everything to build this place, only to have it taken away a second time.

"Hey," Toby came over to rest a hand on Jim's shoulder. "Chin up, Jimbo. We bested that witch once, we'll do it again."

Jim just shook his head. He was trembling - Toby was too. I could see what both of them were thinking, scrawled over their faces. They were thinking of what happened last time they had faced off against Morgana.

"This is not the battle over the first Trollmarket," Blinky said, reading them the same way I had. "Much has changed since then. You have grown, Master Jim. You have become stronger."

He didn't look up. "So has she."

"And so have you," I stepped forward. "Blinky's right, this isn't last time. All of us have done the impossible before. We can do it again."

There was still doubt in his eyes.

"She'll have an army," He said. "How are we supposed to defend Trollmarket against an _army?"_

"The same way we always do," Toby said. "By sticking together. We're the Trollhunters, we've done the impossible. We took down Angor Rot. We gave each and every one of these kids a home. We even organized the most epic jailbreak in history! Name one thing we can't do, and I'll name a hundred things we can."

Jim laughed a little.

"I was with you on the first day," Toby continued. "And I'll be with you on the last day. No matter how many times we almost get killed."

Blinky gave them a proud smile. "But a life almost -"

"Is a life of never," Jim finished.

None of them spoke for a moment, holding on to whatever the phrase meant to them. Then I watched Jim's eyes fill with confidence.

"We'll need to get everyone out of here," He said. "These kids won't last a minute against Morgana or anyone with her. We've got to get them somewhere safe."

"There are some other open areas north of here," I said. "They're what Eli and Steve were planning on searching if Trollmarket wasn't in Lakewood. We could get everyone out there, even if we'd have to knock our way through a few creeps."

Jim nodded slowly. "How close are they?"

I shrugged. "Enough."

"You and Steve can lead them there," He stood. "We'll stay behind and hold her off as long as we can."

"Yeah but," Toby shifted nervously. "What are we supposed to do about Claire?"

Jim deflated at Claire's name, a spark of pain in his eyes. He let out a soft sigh, then his shoulders became straight again. "Claire is strong. She always has been. We'll get her out of here and we'll trust her to hold on for a little longer."

"And Krel?" I asked.

When he looked back at me, his eyes were full of determination. "We will do whatever we have to for both of them, I swear."

I gave him a single nod, forcing the nerves in my stomach to quell.

"We need to get Seamus out of the library," Jim turned to Blinky. "Detain him somewhere before he hurts anyone else."

"The dude's an Orange," Toby said. "How are we supposed to detain him?"

"Keep him unconscious," I eyed his sledgehammer leaned against the wall. "Get creative."

Toby grinned.

"Come, Tobias," Blinky beckoned him towards the door. "And bring your war hammer."

He held out his hand and the hammer came flying into his palm. "Right behind ya!"

"We need to find Steve," Jim turned to me. "Start planning a route for the hunters to get everyone out of here."

I nodded, ready to lead him out of the office and back to where the hunters were gathered at the entrance. But just as I turned, the ground beneath me began to shake. It was so sudden and jolting, I almost fell over, dropping against the lip of the desk to keep upright. The lights around us flickered on and off, leaving us in pitch black for a few seconds at a time before they finally blinked back on.

Then everything went still.

"What was that?" I asked, listening to kids call out to each other in the main tunnel. _Are you alright? Is everyone good? You felt that too, right?_

"Felt like an earthquake," Jim had been knocked back into his chair, shaking his head to clear it as he stood. "And that's definitely the biggest one so far."

"So far?"

"There's been smaller ones," He said. "Little tremors, I guess."

"Strange," I muttered.

"Come on," He nodded towards the opening. "Let's get to work."

I just about launched myself at Steve when we found him. It was like all the panic and fear from earlier rushed back to me in an instant. The terror of never seeing him again - of never seeing anyone I cared about again. So I hugged the life out of him to drown it out.

"Whoa, hey there," He grunted, flailing his arms to keep from falling back. "It's good to see you too, I've been looking for you everywhere - what's wrong? Did something happen?"

Explaining the whole thing to him was a rollercoaster of emotions. At first, pure concern and terror for Eli. Then a little bit of pride for Krel. Then absolute, unbridled fury for Seamus.

Steve grabbed me by my shoulders. "He did _what_ to you?"

"Don't worry," I replied. "I kicked that bastard's ass for it."

The three of us wasted no time pouring over the maps of Jersey we had, even using the map Eli had taken all of his notes on. The paths we found were not foolproof. There was no guarantee of safety. But it was the best shot we had.

"We'll divide the kids up into five groups," Jim said. "And we'll spread the hunters out evenly between them."

"Most kids here aren't strangers to defending themselves," Steve said. "So we can count on them if worse comes to worst. But what about the littles?"

"We'll spread them out evenly too," He replied. "Keep them herded at the center of the groups."

Steve nodded once then rushed off, gathering in the hunters who then set out gathering up the kids; most of which were now packing whatever they could carry - whatever was left.

I turned to Jim. "Who's staying behind?"

"Me and Toby," He said. "Most of the changelings too."

"I want to stay behind as well," I said. "I can help."

He shook his head. "I can't ask that of you."

"I'm the only other Orange you've got, Jim," I replied. "You need all the help you can get. You know she's coming for you, don't you?"

A shadow passed over his face. Something he was holding back.

"What?" I asked. "What else is there?"

He sighed. "There's . . . someone I could call. Someone who hates Morgana as much as we do."

I could suddenly feel the panic button under my shirt. There was someone I could call, too.

I'd almost forgotten I even had the button until that moment. It was always under my collar. Out of sight, out of mind. But now . . .

"Who is he?"

"His name's Merlin, another Wizard. He's a Red, like me."

"How do you know him?"

"Uh," Jim rubbed the back of his neck. "It's a long story, but the short version is he's the one that made me the Trollhunter in the first place. He made our armor and my sword. He made the first Trollmarket possible."

"So why isn't he here?"

"Let's just say," Jim pursed his lips. "He's not the easiest guy to get along with."

"He sounds like Seamus."

"About ten times worse."

Without warning, the lights flickered off, and all of Trollmarket was thrown into pitch black.

Several screams were heard as it went dark, and even more when the ground began to shake again. This time harder. And longer. A low rumbling sound scraped along the walls, crashing and bumping as furniture was knocked over.

I hit the ground with my shoulder first, pain firing through it as I was thrown back and forth. A thousand voices were screaming and a thousand more were screaming back to calm down. All I could do was cling to the dirt to keep steady.

When the lights finally came back on, everything had been thrown to the floor - including all the kids. Some of the younger kids were crying, immediately being shushed by the older ones. Every other kid had a small scrape or bruise from bumping into things, but nothing more serious than that.

"Here," I pushed myself to my feet, offering Jim my hand. "You okay?"

"Yeah," He grunted, rubbing his head as I pulled him up. "These are just getting worse and worse."

I looked up, watching dust rain down from the ceiling. "You don't think these tremors pose a threat to the tunnels, do you?"

"Don't think so," He replied. "I mean, they did build this thing with that in mind, right?"

I twisted my lips to the side, my eyes scanning over the walls. "I hope so."

Suddenly, a shriek echoed down from the upper tunnels. A shriek Jim and I recognized instantly.

"Claire," We said in unison. Then bolted for the metal staircase that lead to her room.

But when we got there, the door had been blown right off its hinges, Claire standing in the doorway. Her eyes were dark with blood, her irises a sick yellow instead of their usual brown. When they fell on us, a twisted smile fell over her face. A smile that didn't belong to her.

"Claire, wait -" Jim started forward, but then she held her palm flat out to us, and we were thrown backwards.

The wind was knocked right out of me as I landed on my back beside Jim, an ache going all the way up to my head. Jim scrambled to his feet, watching Claire descend the stairs, grinning down at him all the way.

"My Trollhunter," She said. But that voice - it wasn't hers. It was Morgana's.

Jim drew his sword, but I could tell by his stance that he wasn't about to charge. He wouldn't hurt Claire.

"Jim!" A blur of orange and Toby was sprinting towards us, Blinky behind him. They all looked up at Claire with horror. "She's here."

"It's dawn," I whispered.

"What a lovely new Trollmarket," Claire - or not Claire, I guess - ran a hand over the wall. "And what lovely additions to my army you have gathered for me."

The five of us clustered together at the entrance to the main tunnel, blocking her path.

"These aren't additions for your army," Jim spat.

"Now get out of our friend!" Toby added.

"I think not," She replied, examining Claire's arms. "This host is the best I've had so far. With power like this, I can hold Trollmarket in the palm of my hand."

"Tobes! Blinky!" Jim shouted over his shoulder. "Get everyone out of here! Now!"

"You think you can escape me that easily?" She raised her hands, and the walls began trembling yet again. Whole patches of dirt showered down, crumbling and grinding sounds thudding through my ears. More screaming echoed behind us, tempting me to look back, but I didn't want to take my eyes off her for one second.

"Dude, she's gonna collapse the tunnels!"

"No, she's not!" I stepped forward, holding out my hand and reaching into her mind.

The shaking stopped, but not because I did anything. She was caught off guard, distracted enough to change her focus. I didn't care, whatever time I could buy them I would.

"Ah," Her eyes fell to me. "The Akiridion. How bold of you to think you have a chance in this fight. You are nothing compared to my Sorceress."

"I took down your messenger," I threw back. "Didn't I?"

Something in her face flinched, looking so much and so little like Claire's at once. We were caught in a reverse game of tug of war. Both pushing on either sides of a door, except I was pushing with all my might and she was barely even touching it.

"Well congratulations, little princess," Her cruel smile returned. "You managed to derail a pawn. And now you are ready to take on a queen?"

"We're all ready to take on a queen," Jim retorted.

"Witch!" Toby shouted.

"Go ahead, Trollhunter," Another dark laugh. "Try and stop me. I've slain scores of Merlin's fools and I'll slay scores more."

The ground cracked beneath our feet, dirt raining and falling down my shirt. The whole world was rattling violently, like when a child shakes a snow globe.

"Tobes, Blinky, now!" Jim called over the noise. The two were hesitant, I could tell. Neither of them wanted to leave their friend. But Jim was the real prize Morgana wanted, alive or dead. To keep her at bay, he would have to stay. And they would have to go. So they did.

"Aja, go with them," Jim said, still not taking his eyes off Claire's face. "I'll hold her off for as long as I can. Help Steve lead everyone out of here."

"I'm not going anywhere," I widened my stance. "You and both know you can't fight an Orange with a sword."

"So bold," Claire's tongue tsked. "You would've made a lovely pawn. Perhaps even a rook. A shame it'll all go to waste."

Jim's sword burst into flames, his armor too. "We're not letting you take Trollmarket."

"Oh, my champion," She grinned. "It's already mine."

When the chasms began, I dropped to a crouch, both hands clamped over my ears as I reached out with my invisible hands. Morgana's mind wasn't like any other I'd ever seen before. It wasn't a filing cabinet. It wasn't a pair of hands to fight. But it was _giant_, expanding far out around her in a thousand different directions. But deep within it, I could sense the separation between her and Claire. But Claire was so far mixed in -

It was almost haunting to see a mind that twisted.

I dove against her, banging and tearing at whatever I could grab. It was like pulling at the roots of a tree.

I saw a blur of orange and watched Jim go flying into the adjacent wall. Morgana walked Claire's body forward, hands out and towards the exits still full of kids. But then heat was surrounding us, the bright light of fire and flame making my eyes burn.

The fiery wall kept Morgana barred from the exits. But not from us.

Whipping back around, chunks of the ground were ripped up and thrown towards him. He swung his sword, cutting through the rock with his now molten blade. But the actual steel of the weapon stayed intact.

_Fascinating_, Krel would've said.

Finally, Morgana landed a blast squarely against his chest, the dirt and rock exploding off his armor from the force. He flew back, skidding around a corner. I ran after him, pulling him to his feet.

"I didn't know Claire could collapse tunnels," I panted.

"She can't," Jim said. "At least . . . we didn't know she could."

"Come back out and face me, Trollhunter!"

"How do we stop her?" He turned back to me. "We can't hurt Claire, but even if you find a way in Morgana's head, she's still using Claire's power to pull this off - and down, I guess."

"We have to untangle them," I said.

"Don't you have to touch her?"

"Not this time," I shook my head. "Morgana's mind is so spread out. It's like she's reaching out to me because she's reaching out everywhere when she's using Claire's power. I think I can do it."

Jim's eyes brightened with hope. "Do you think you can bring Claire back?"

"I don't know," I glanced around the corner, seeing Morgana twist Claire's face even more. "But I'm willing to push my luck."

"Do whatever you have to," He said. "I'll keep her distracted."

I gave him a single nod, letting him round the corner for round two while I pressed my back to the wall. I heard Jim's cries as she threw him around. I felt the heat intensify as he fought back. But everything else was in my mind, focusing on forcing my mind out. Just like Seamus had taught me.

This time I didn't go for Morgana's roots. I went for the ends of her branches, almost reminding me of octopus tentacles from how spread out they were. Even if I just barely brushed it, I could sense Claire was there. Faint but there. Maybe if I could get through her shell. If I could find a vein of Claire's mind -

"You insolent child!"

Just like that, my entire body seized. The pain cracked like a whip through me, my back cramping and twisting as it was forced to arch against the wall. My throat was crushed inside me. My lungs constricting smaller and smaller as my ribs were forced down.

"You think you are a match for a Wizard?" She shrieked. "I have more power than you could ever dream of, Akiridion! And you will die as a testament to it!"

My body jolted, forcing me onto all fours against the hot dirt. I gasped, feeling a stab of pain in my heart with every passing beat. Like a knife was going in and out of my chest.

"No!" Jim cried, and more heat spilled over us.

But then there was heat in me. A familiar heat. One that took the pain from my cramping limbs and made my breath strong again. The stabbing feeling was still hammering over my heart, my pulse slowing. But I closed my eyes and I pulled on the warmth, coaxing it larger like a real flame.

I could feel my strength return. I could hear Morgana's frustrated cries as her body and her mind were attacked at once. No, not her body. Claire's body.

Gritting my teeth, I forced myself against her. Like slamming my shoulder against the door over and over again. But three times as exhausting. And ten times as painful.

Another roar from Morgana as she pushed back, but the fire inside me kept her drowned out. It wasn't just heat now, it _burned_. Stinging me raw inside. I focused it against Morgana anyway, like an ant under a magnifying glass.

She shrieked, the walls crumbling with her fury. "You are nothing compared to what I can do!"

She was right. But somehow, it didn't matter.

I could feel her clawed hands cutting into my skull, scraping and gauging inside me. The burning consumed everything, giving me a pain I didn't know I could feel. A gut-wrenching scream ripped out of me. And I pushed harder.

It was like breaking through glass. It stung. It sliced. And it stabbed.

Until I fell through.


	38. 38

**The Sorceress Minus The Stone**

**(A/N): remember when i said i wasn't above hamilton ****references?**

I was in a house.

A memory, I thought. No, not a memory.

It was too real for a memory. It was another vision, like when Morgana had pulled me into her mind before.

The house was one I had never seen before. But the newspaper on the counter told me we were in Arcadia. The space was clean and homey. Modern and sleek.

"Ugh, come on."

I turned, seeing Claire sitting at the dining table. She was significantly smaller. Her face so much shorter and less mature. Her hands were void of scars and calluses. Her feet were kicking with boundless energy. The streak in her hair was bright blue again, not stark white.

She looked so innocent. Untouched.

I wondered how long it had been since I'd looked like that.

"Math is so stupid," She muttered to herself. There was a set of papers spread before her on the table, her little hands scrawling across them with a pencil.

"The common curse of mankind," She continued to mutter. "Folly and ignorance, be thy - no, thine - wait. What is it?"

Setting down her pencil she reached across the table to grab a small, thick book set there. The title read _Troilus and Cressida_ in big letters. The name 'William Shakespeare' in bigger letters.

I knelt beside her small form, watching her thumb through the book. "Claire?" I said.

She didn't look over.

I waved my hand in front of her face, but she barely even flinched. Reaching up, I pushed two fingers against her shoulder, but felt not contact. No pressure. As if I wasn't truly there.

Maybe I wasn't.

"'The common cure of mankind'," She read. "'Folly and ignorance, be thine in revenue'. Be _thine_ in revenue."

It made me smile a little. That after all she'd been through, while her body was being twisted and puppeteered, she was here. Doing math homework and quoting Shakespeare. She was home.

And as much as I wished she could've stayed like this, we had to go.

"Claire," I said it louder this time. "Can you hear me?"

"Ugh, why does Ms. Janeth always assign so much?"

I sighed. There had to be a way to talk to her, but if I wasn't even really here -

Wait a minute.

_Claire_, I said it to her mind this time. _Can you hear me?_

Ten year-old Claire jumped back from the table with a cry. She spun back on her heels, whirling around as she scanned the room. "Huh?"

_It's me, Claire -_

"The heck!" More spinning, her neck craning back as she looked for the source. "Who's there?"

_It's Aja, Claire. Remember me? I'm your friend from Trollmarket._

Her face softened, a flicker of memory in her eyes. ". . . Trollmarket?"

With a deep breath, I pushed the rest of the way into her mind, breaking the seal locked around it.

When her head turned, her eyes landed on me. "Aja," She said.

I gave her an encouraging smile. She didn't smile back.

Her eyes ran over the room again, but instead of urgency, it was a mix of shock and heartache. "None of this is real."

Behind me, the cry of a baby made us both turn. There, in the living room aside the kitchen, sat a playpen. Claire walked over to it almost robotically, her feet moving slowly over the floorboards. I followed her, peeking over the wall of the playpen to see a blond toddler sitting within it, playing with blocks.

"He's not real."

"He's real out there in the world," I told her, and she heard me. "But not here. It's time to go back."

She didn't move her eyes from the toddler. "I don't think I can go back."

"I think you can," I rested my hand on her shoulder, and she felt it. "You can do lots of things you never thought you could."

She gave me a small smile. "So can you."

"Come on, Claire," I held out my hand. "Let's get you home."

"My real one?"

"Your new one."

In the end, she didn't hesitate.

The second she took my hand, everything bleeded to black. I was back on all fours, the dirt beneath me scorching my palms it was so cooked by Jim's fire. I could hear Morgana's screeches. I could hear Jim's cries as he fought to pacify her. And I could feel the grip I still had on Claire.

It was a feeling I don't know how to explain. I was kicking madly against the door, Claire on the other end, prying at it. It was more pain than I know how to express. More desperation. More terror.

But I still knew me chipping away at the outside wouldn't be enough. I knew Claire had to give me a crack - a crack I could break open.

"No!" Morgana's voice grated on my ears. "You filthy parasite! Peasant! I will wear your spine as a crown, Akiridion!"

Despite it all, I almost laughed. Varvatos would've laughed too.

"Foolish child," She hissed, and I couldn't tell if it was inside my own head or not. "You dare wield my power? It shall be your end!"

I took me until then to realize she was talking to Claire. And Claire was talking back.

_It was never yours._

Suddenly, there was a whole nother force racking at the door. Hands that weren't Orange, but had the strength equal to one. The kind of strength that comes from growing up.

_This is my mind and I'm taking it back!_

The door didn't open. It _burst_. Splinters flying.

My mind broke away, a physical _snap_ going through my head as it happened. I crumpled forward on the hot ground, the only sound the ringing in my ears. My vision was spotty and fuzzy, the only colors I could make out being the brown of the dirt and the orange of the fire.

I waited for the migraine. For the pain to explode through me and drag me down into the dark. But it didn't. It faded. Little by little. Minute by minute. Slowly letting me breathe again.

Someone was talking to me. Someone was touching me. And I wasn't scared.

"Steve?" I blinked several times, his face coming into focus.

"Hey, angel," He wrapped his arm around me, hoisting me to my feet. "We gotta get you outta here. Can you walk?"

I managed a nod. The floor beneath me was swaying but my legs were steady.

"Come on -"

"Wait," I croaked, craning my head to look for Claire.

Had it worked?

Did I really -

Was she really -

Jim was holding her up, her face every bit exhausted as it was overjoyed. She leaned into him as she clung to the front of his armor, tears sliding down his face as he pressed kisses across her cheek.

Her face, her voice, her eyes - they were hers. She was free.

_Finally, free._

With a twist of her head, her eyes landed on me, and her arm reached out. The hand on the end of it was scarred and calloused. Her eyes were still bloody and bruised. The streak in her hair was no longer blue. Claire wasn't the ten year-old girl that did math homework while quoting Shakespeare. She wasn't innocent or untouched.

She had grown into something so much more than that.

I took her hand and Claire pulled me into her arms, a small sob breaking from her throat.

_"Gracias,"_ She whispered to me. "Thank you."

I hugged her back with what little strength I had left, holding onto this for the split second that I could. For once, I hadn't broken someone. For once, I'd put them back together.

The ground beneath us rumbled, a horrible grinding sound echoing from up the tunnels. We parted, craning our necks back to watch one of the openings off the main tunnel buckle and collapse.

"Come on," Steve came up behind me, herding me gently forward. "Let's get outta here before we become pancakes."

The neon lights had been completely knocked out, the only light being from the fires Jim had started. We were halfway up the staircase leading to the main entrance when Jim called back to Steve.

"Did you get everyone out?"

"Think so," He replied.

My head whipped towards him. "What about Krel?"

"Darci said she would get him."

"Did she?"

Steve went pallid. "Uh . . ."

"Shit!" I whirled away from him, barreling back down the stairs and heading towards the infirmary.

"No, Aja, wait!"

"I'll go with her!"

I turned to see Claire running after me.

"No, let me," Jim descended the stairs towards us, touching Claire's arm. "I just got you back, you need to get out of here, you need to rest -"

She pressed a quick kiss to his lips, effectively cutting him off. "If anyone needs to be up there it's you. You've got an army to out run, remember?"

"But -"

"All the entrances are unsealed, right?"

Jim let out a sigh, giving Claire a gentle smile. "Be careful."

She gave him a single nod, then turned and followed me off the stairs.

"We'll see you up there!" I called over my shoulder.

"That girl is gonna be the death of me," I heard Jim mumble.

"I know the feeling," Steve replied.

The ceiling over the infirmary was cracking as we approached, more dirt raining down as we busted open the doors. Krel was laying exactly where we had left him, shivering and gasping on the table. I sprinted to his side.

He -

He was convulsing.

His back arched up and down on the blanket, saliva frothing over his mouth as his limbs seized. I let out a cry, pulling him down into my arms and wrapping him in the blanket he was resting on. His fever had gotten worse. He was barely even breathing.

"Oh my God," Claire came to kneel beside me, both hands over her mouth.

His neck kept craning back, his arms and elbows jerking back and forth as his fingers curled. "It's okay," I whispered to him, swallowing to hold back tears. "It's okay."

"What _happened_ to him?"

I could only shake my head, wiping the moisture around his mouth with my sleeve.

Claire craned her neck to look behind us. "Do you think anyone else is still down here?"

I eased Krel's twitching body off the ground, feeling his sweat soak through the blanket. "I don't -"

The ceiling roared, the entire room beginning to tremble. The shower of dirt was my only warning to what was to come, then the blur of the ceiling crashing downward. I dropped to the ground, bending over Krel to shield him. I braced for the impact, listening to how the rocks whistled through the air as they fell.

But then it all went quiet.

And Claire grunted.

I looked up to see how the ceiling had crumbled over me, the clumps of dirt and rock hovering in the air. Claire was on one knee beside me, arms extended as blood seeped from her nose. "G-go," She managed. _"Go!"_

Lifting Krel again, I bolted for the doorway, both of us scrambling out just before her hold broke and whole corner of the main tunnel folded in on itself.

I shot Claire a glance, choking in the dust. I could barely see her in the dark. "You okay?"

She nodded, swiping under her nose and then shaking her head to clear it. "Let's just get to the -"

Crashing sounded behind us, making us turn to watch as the massive staircase was buried and the first entrance collapsed.

"- stairs."

"Come on," I threw my head towards the back tunnel, hoping the flames Jim had left behind would be enough to light our way. "We'll use the back exit."

We started towards it, but just as the cracks of daylight came into view, a tiny voice sounded behind us.

"Is someone there?"

"Help! We're stuck!"

We skidded to a stop, locking eyes.

"Get him out of here," Claire was already backing up. "I'll get them."

There wasn't time to argue, so I just gave her a nod and she vanished into the dark. And standing there on my own, it took a split second for me to realize three fundamental truths and the exact same time.

Number one, Krel wasn't going to get better on his own. Seamus knew it and I knew it. I could hear him choking on his own breath, his entire body burning with a fever. It would only get worse. The nearest hospital wasn't for miles. Even if by some miracle we could get there, there was no way to help him without being shipped off to camps again.

Number two, I still had my panic button. I could feel it under my shirt as always. The League was known for their violent strikes, they would be no stranger to serious injuries. They would have connections. Ways to get underhanded medical care.

Number three, if I was going to call the League I would have to get as far from here as possible, without any hope of being followed. Morgana's accomplices were already coming for every kid here, they did not need the League after them as well.

And Claire had just given me the perfect opportunity to make a run for it.

My heart began to pound, my feet stuttering towards the door. But running would mean leaving Steve. Leaving Eli. Jim. Toby. Claire. All of them, to join a terrorist group that had betrayed my parents and tortured my brother.

I may never see them again.

Krel jolted against me, choking for his next breath. I pinned my lips together as the tears fell, cradling him closer to my chest.

This was worth it. This was worth my brother's life.

I wondered how many times Krel had thought that for me.

The daylight was blinding compared the darkness of the tunnels, the air as crisp and cool as it always was. But my lungs were raw against it anyway, and not just because of the dust.

Krel and I were both covered in it, my hands and hair caked with dirt. Crusts of blood were still clinging to my nose and mouth, pooled in my ears and even down my throat. My back was burning. My arms were aching. The corners of my vision were still blurry as an echoing pain throbbed behind them.

I could hear the voices of dozens of kids radiating not twenty feet from the tree line I stood behind. There weren't many of them left, the hunters herding them away as soon as possible. I could almost see them. I could almost see Steve.

I could hear him calling my name.

A sob burst from my throat as I pushed my way into the tree line. "I'm sorry," I whispered under my breath. Over and over. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry . . ."

_I did what I had to for my brother and I'd do it again._

I could only hope he would understand again.

The underbrush scraped against my legs and arms. My muscles burned under Krel's weight, so much that running almost felt like swimming against the air. But that was nothing compared to the feeling in my chest.

It took me until then to realize I'd felt this feeling before. When Krel and I were lost in the West Virginian woods and I had shot into the air to distract the PSFs. When I let them take me.

Underneath the hurt, there was the same determination. It didn't matter how painful it was, I knew what I had to do. I'd figure out the rest later.

My vision spotted in and out, almost looking like an oil painting. The familiar migraine was finally coming, pounding against me, but I kept going. I needed to get away. I wasn't going to drag anyone else into this one.

This time, I was on my own.

It wasn't until we reached an incline, a rocky steepness in the hill leading up the mountain and overlooking the river, that I let myself drop to my knees. I shifted back, leaning against the cool rock as I pulled Krel onto my lap. Craning my neck, I peered around the boulder to catch sight of the river and the tree line beyond it. There were no voices. No kids. No creeps. No Trollhunters.

Everything was quiet.

I cradled Krel in my arms, keeping him wrapped in the blanket. His body was still jerking against mine, the same sandpaper sound coming from his throat. I brushed the hair that had been plastered to his forehead away, feeling his arms jolt into my stomach.

"Hey, it's okay," I whispered, wiping my sleeve over his mouth again. "It's okay. I've got you. Everything will be okay."

His eyelids fluttered. His chest still twitched up and down as he tried to breathe, but I could feel him begin to relax. Whether or not it was voluntary, I'm not sure. All I could do was hold him, more tears falling as I fished the panic button out from under my shirt.

_This is worth my brother's life._

"It's going to be okay, Krel," I told him. "Help is coming."

And I pushed the button.


	39. 39

**Summon All The Courage You Require**

**(A/N): BEFORE YOU READ THIS: just wanted to say thanks for reading this far and giving my wild fic a shot. i guess i can only hope you enjoyed it as much as i did *blows kisses***

**but without further ado, enjoy the finale!**

It was so quiet.

The sun had barely risen, the morning light and cool breeze moving through the trees. The sky was a beautiful blue. Birds were chirping back and forth. The river bubbled happily behind us. And I sat in the middle of it, Krel's head on my shoulder and his legs over my lap as I held him.

Why did it have to be quiet?

Why couldn't the world be as loud as I wanted to scream?

The minutes went by at an agonizing pace. I tried to will it faster, but the sun continued to slowly inch up the summer sky. So I continued smoothing Krel's hair over the way Mama used to, staring blankly into the mountain ahead of us. Krel didn't have much time left, but there was nothing to do but wait.

And I've always hated waiting.

I still had one hand clenched around the button. It took me until I looked down at it to realize I was trembling.

Footsteps crunched in the grass behind me, so far away they almost sounded like a hum. I heard deep, adult voices chattering over things I didn't care about. I heard someone coming closer and my grip on Krel tightened. Suddenly, I didn't feel scared or anxious or even desperate.

I felt angry.

But the second I saw Zadra's face, it all melted away.

Guarded horror filled her eyes when they landed on us, as though she had prepared herself for what she might see, but was still undone by it. The two of us covered in dirt and blood, Krel shivering and gasping as I held him in a vomit stained blanket.

She lowered herself onto her knees beside me. She reached for my shoulder, but I flinched away.

"Please," Fresh tears spilled down my raw cheeks. "Help him. Please."

Her face fell, anguished. "Oh, _Aja_ _-"_

"I'll go with you," I pleaded. "I'll do what you want - I'll do what _they_ want. Whatever it is, I'll do it. _Please,"_ A sob burst from my throat. "Please just help him."

Zadra had to swallow before speaking. "Can you stand?"

It wasn't easy. My legs were aching and tired. My whole body felt like it was underwater. But I shifted and I grunted and I raised myself to my feet, still holding Krel.

Zadra lead me around the boulders, the three SUVs surrounding us coming into view - and all the people coming out of them. The second I saw them I started backing up, clutching Krel protectively against my chest.

My back hit Zadra's front, her hands coming onto my shoulders to hold me in place. "Aja," She whispered to me. "You need to let go now."

But I couldn't. They had to pry him out of my arms.

I tried to go after him, my arms reaching out to hold him again as they whisked him away. But then Zadra was holding my waist - holding me back. And I cried. I begged and pleaded for her to let me go. But she held me tight, so much it was suffocating.

"It's going to be alright," She said. "Krel is going to be alright. You are safe now, I promise."

I only cried harder. Harder than I had in a long time. I screamed and I struggled, kicking madly against the hands that pulled me forward. This was a mistake. A horrible, horrible mistake. I never should've called them. I never should've let anyone take me away again.

A terrible noise filled the air, but I didn't realize it was my own screaming until Zadra put her hand over my mouth. Her arms were twisted around me, one around my waist, pinning my elbows to my sides, and the other keeping my mouth shut.

"Please calm down," Her voice said. "You need to calm down. Everything's okay. I'm not going to let anyone hurt you. I'm right here."

But I didn't want her to be here. I wanted my Mama and Papa to be here. I wanted my brother. I wanted my family. I wanted to go back to when I was innocent and untouched and go home.

And I didn't want to be touched.

So I bucked and I writhed and I bit into her hand to get it off me. It all became a blur until I felt the leather of car seats press against my cheek. The feeling of going limp. The feeling of cushions beneath me. Then everything was warm and dark - and someone's hand was rubbing my back. And sobs, racking me so hard it hurt. And then -

And then -

I woke up. Slow as always. But still up.

I was in a bed. Wrapped in a fluffy blanket. Warm and safe. Someone's hand was over mine, their promises in my ear. I could almost make out the words through the fog.

My eyelids finally began to flutter, and I felt the hand pull away. The gentle voice disappeared. But I wanted it back. I wanted to know what words demanded that level of reverence.

My head was still full of fog, my body so heavy as I pried myself up. The room blurred around me, making me blink to force it into focus. Then the face before me came into focus.

The tears came almost instantly. Like a knee-jerk reaction.

"Varvatos?" I choked.

His old smile was so gentle, so familiar it wrenched at my heart. "My princess."

For a moment, all I could do was stare, seeing all the changes the years had brought to his face. His wrinkles carved deeper. His hands all the more calloused and rough. And the guarded look that always loomed over his eyes peeled back as the tears appeared.

He stared at me too, his old, grey eyes scanning over all the changes to my face. All the changes he hadn't been there to see.

Varvatos's hands reached for me, but he hesitated. I hesitated too. It was strange, as much warmth was bursting in us, we didn't know what to do with ourselves. Or each other. We didn't know what boundaries should be between us.

But in the end, my heart won out and I threw my arms around his neck. And he held me.

"I missed you," I cried, the tears making my eyes ache. "I missed you so much it hurt."

He cradled me closer, the way he had the day half the girls on my basketball team died. The way he had when we managed to escape being caught by trolls. Like no time had passed at all.

"Varvatos missed you as well," He said. I'd almost forgotten what his voice sounded like. "More than he thought he ever could."

"I'm sorry," A sob hiccuped in my chest. "I'm so _sorry -"_

"Varvatos is sorry too," He whispered. "This is Varvatos's fault. It is a debt he can never repay. Varvatos has not had a moment's rest since."

I sniffled, burying myself in his collar. His aftershave smelled just as strong, filling me with the scent of home. "I don't see it like that anymore."

His grip on me loosened, his face pulling back to see mine again. As though he thought he'd heard me wrong. "Yes, you do," He muttered in disbelief. One of his hands ran over my hair. "After all Varvatos has done, you must."

I shook my head, pulling him close again. But he was too shocked to hug back. "I don't," I said. "I just love you."

And the great Varvatos Vex, Commander and veteran, war hero and marine legend, trembled as he held me.

I didn't notice the door to the room had been opened until he leaned back, looking over at Zadra's form. There was another girl coming in after her, no older than I was. I had to blink a few times, pushing past the overwhelming feeling in my chest to see where I was.

The room was like a bedroom. Pale purple wallpaper. Thick curtains over the window. Bright white dressers. And a mirror on the wall, letting me see my reflection as I sat up. I wasn't covered in dirt or blood anymore. My clothes had been changed. My hair had been combed.

Varvatos was sitting in an armchair he'd pushed closer to the bed, still leaning over to hold my hands. And I didn't want to let go.

"Where am I?" I asked.

"You are stationed in a safehouse," Zadra answered. "In Maryland."

The girl beside her had dark hair pulled back into a ponytail and a deep cut across her nose. When she saw the tears on my face, she scoffed, rolling her eyes into the ceiling. I felt mine narrow.

"Where have you been?" Varvatos asked, his voice so soft he was almost whispering. "My princess, where did you go?"

The girl gagged. My glare intensified. "Who the hell are you?" I snapped.

"This is Lena," Zadra said. "She's the only other Orange with the League."

"I'm also in charge of training for the teams," She sneered. "So you answer to me now."

I sat up taller, using Mama's voice when I replied. "I answer to no one."

She scoffed again, like I was nothing but a lost, little child.

"Aja, we need to know where you have been," Zadra came closer to the bed. Suddenly, I couldn't look away from her face. It had been so long since I'd seen her - even if it really hadn't.

"I've been at Trollmarket." What was the point of keeping that a secret now?

Both Zadra and Varvatos got guarded looks on their faces, a strange sympathy in their eyes. So they _had_ heard what happened. Does that mean they knew how it ended?

How it ended for Steve?

"Good to know," The girl sneered. "You've been sitting on your ass doing nothing while we've been wasting all our time tracking you down. Pathetic."

Zadra's eyes flared. "Lena -"

"What?" She rounded the bed. I didn't break my eyes away, daring her closer. "Am I wrong? God, people like you aren't worth the shit you give the world. Walking around thinking you can get whatever you want 'cause Mommy and Daddy are famous enough -"

I reached out and put two fingers on the back of her hand, seeping into her mind. I saw the harsh walls of the bases. The screaming instructors. The bombs she was tasked with carrying inside buildings, getting into peoples heads to make them think,_ oh yes, I did order a package, didn't I?_

The sad part was she actually thought she knew what power was. She thought she knew what it was to be in control. She honestly thought she was stronger than me.

"What's your name?" I asked.

The scowl from her face fell. Her eyes darted back and forth as she went pallid. "Uh-h -"

"Where are you from?"

She stumbled back, her breath suddenly coming in rapid gasps. She looked wildly between Varvatos and Zadra, as if they could give her some kind of clue.

"Do you know where you are now?"

I almost felt guilty when I saw the moisture gather in her eyes. Almost.

"Then maybe," I hissed, glaring through her. "You should leave."

She scrambled for the door, hiccuping as she cried. I glowered at the closed door in her wake, feeling the way Zadra and Varvatos were looking at me. The way you look at a bear you've stumbled upon in the woods.

And I didn't care.

I wasn't the little girl they had pulled out of Thurmond all those months ago. The one who had cried and pleaded not to be left in a dark box. I was something very different now.

They'd do well to remember it.

"Impressive," Varvatos murmured.

"What happened to Krel?" I looked back at Zadra. "How is he?"

"We managed to flush the toxins out of his system," She replied, nodding slowly. "You called us just in time."

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "Will he be okay?"

"Yes," Varvatos said, still unable to raise his voice to the volume I remembered. "Krel will alright."

I let the walls around me crack, tears falling. He would be okay. This wasn't for nothing. He would be okay.

The bed sunk a little as Zadra came to sit beside me, her eyes full of quiet concern. "How did those toxins get into his system in the first place?"

"Goblins," I growled under my breath. I didn't need to say any more.

"He is here in the building," Varvatos reached for my hands again. "Do you wish to see him?"

"How long have I been out?" I asked.

"A few days," Zadra replied. "You needed the rest."

If Krel was here, and I could get to him, and we could get away together. Just like we had at the gas station. It wouldn't be hard. Anyone gets in our way, all it would take was a finger on their hand and -

"I wouldn't try running if I were you," Zadra gave me a pointed look, as if reading my mind.

"You couldn't stop me when I was nine," I shot back. "What makes you so bold now?"

She pulled a small silver, device from her pocket. It took me a moment, but I saw the speaker on the end of it. A Calm Control device.

White Noise.

"Every agent downstairs has one of these on hand," She said. "Not to mention if they even suspect you'll try something, they will shoot Krel for your insubordination."

Icy horror took over my body, freezing in my veins. I didn't want to believe it was true, I wanted to call her bluff. I wanted there to be a chance. But I saw the truth her eyes - saw the two kids Zeron had shot point blank for no other reason than being alive.

The League had spent countless resources tracking me down. They would do anything to control me now.

"I guess we'll be spending lots of time together now," I kept my glare on the ground. "Won't we?"

Neither one of them denied it. We were trapped here.

"It was inevitable from the beginning, wasn't it?" I said. "Eventually, you would have to bring me in."

"You're a valuable asset to the resistance," Her voice was flat. No emotion. I began to wonder why she had joined the League in the first place.

"What about Krel?"

"He is a security risk," Varvatos said. "For all that he knows, and the fact that he has tried to defect."

"He is safer with us," Zadra said.

I balled the pale sheets into my palms. "No, he is not."

None of us said anything for a moment, letting the words sink in.

"He told you," Varvatos said.

"He's my brother, he'll tell me anything."

Zadra took a measured breath. "Aja, you must understand -"

"You _knew,"_ I spat. "Both of you did. And you just let them hurt him."

"There is more to what happened than that." But Varvatos still hung his head in shame.

"I don't care what more there is," I steeled my voice again. "If you want me to cooperate - if you want me to use my abilities, or do testing on me, or whatever it is, I have one condition. You let Krel go."

Zadra stiffened. "Aja, he knows too much. We cannot -"

"Yes, you can," I snapped. "You owe it to him. Both of you do."

Zadra and Varvatos locked eyes, the stiffness going between them. The calculating. The indecision. They'd thought about this before.

"If you do not meet my condition," My voice was raw and clear. "Then I will refuse to cooperate. I will not move from this spot until you drag me. I will not speak a single word to any member of the League."

"Aja, please -"

"I do not _care,"_ I hissed. "How much White Noise you play in my ear, I will attack the mind of every agent that dares to touch me. I will make this place hell for everyone who sets foot in it, and I will drag everyone down with me. I can do so much more than you've seen from that brat - things you couldn't even imagine. But you won't see another stitch of it until Krel walks free."

Varvatos lifted an eyebrow, a hint of pride in his eyes. He looked up at Zadra and I saw the same look in her face. But then it deflated.

"Aja, even if we did this," Zadra rested a hand on my shoulder. "Krel joined the League to find you. He won't leave if you stay. He won't let you make that trade."

"You have been inseparable for as long as Varvatos can remember," Varvatos said. "Perhaps it is best you stay that way."

"No," I threw the word in his face, tears in my eyes. "I'm not letting anyone hurt him again."

"What about you?" Zadra asked. "Krel will refuse to leave, you know that. He won't abandon you, Aja."

I swallowed. "I can fix that."

The room Krel was in had blue walls, robin egg blue. It was a bedroom not unlike the one I was in, just basic furniture and a curtained window.

A doctor was exiting the room when we arrived, pulling Zadra aside to discuss something about Krel's IV. She waved me forward mid-conversation, giving me the green light to open the door.

Krel was sitting cross legged on the bed, beside an IV bag hanging from a pole, picking at the scabs on his hands. He wasn't covered in dirt or blood. He wasn't drenched in sweat. His breathing didn't sound like sandpaper. He wasn't twitching or jolting or choking on his own saliva.

He was okay. A little flushed, but okay.

I almost couldn't believe it.

When he looked up at me, he smiled. Hopping off the edge of the bed, he rose to his feet and held out his arms.

"What are you waiting for?"

A smile broke out onto my face as I walked into his arms, hugging him tight. "I'm glad you're okay," I whispered.

He gripped me tighter.

"How are you feeling?"

He sighed. "Tired, I guess."

"Here," I lowered myself onto the edge of the bed, pulling him down to sit beside me. "Has the doctor cleared you?"

He held out his arm, showing me the bruised hole in his elbow. "He just took out my IV."

I grimaced at the mark, holding up the edge of his elbow. But then my eyes fell to the red 'X's carved into his palms and I lowered his arm. "Do you remember what happened?"

"Yes," He nodded slowly. "I mean, it's gets a little fuzzy after . . ." He fingered the syringe mark on his neck and tried for a nervous laugh, but I didn't laugh with him. It was a few beats of silence until I could find my voice again.

"Thanks for the password, by the way."

A hint of a smile crossed his face, the hurt hiding in his eyes. I rested a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"How did you get Seamus to tell you his password?"

"He didn't," Krel said to the floor. "I guessed it. Emma was his mother's name."

"Oh."

"What happened to him?" He risked a glance up at me. "What happened to all of them?"

I exhaled, thinking back to when Blinky and Toby had gone to 'detain' Seamus. I hadn't seen him after that, I didn't even know where he was. I didn't know where any of them were. I rattled off the attack to the best of my ability anyway. Krel deserved to know what he had prevented. The lives he had saved.

"We never would've gotten them out in time without you," I told him.

"And," He almost began to grin. "They never would've gotten Morgana out of Claire without you."

I brushed a piece of hair behind my ear, shrugging.

He pushed his fist against my shoulder. "Knew you could do it."

A knock sounded on the door behind us. My stomach was very suddenly tied in knots, so tight I felt nauseous. I only had a few minutes left to do this. I had to do this. But when I looked back at Krel, a part of me doubted that I even could.

"I'm sorry," He whispered, bowing his head. "I - I'm so sorry, I -"

"What are you talking about?" I shifted towards him, ducking my head to see his eyes. They were full of tears. "Krel, what could you possibly be sorry for?"

"For getting sick again," He looked up at me miserably. "For making you risk your life to save me again."

"No," I shook my head at him. "No, this isn't your fault, Krel. It's Seamus's."

A wave of hurt appeared in Krel's eyes, his head dropping into his hands. I wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "I'm so sorry, little brother."

He shook his head at the sheets. "It doesn't matter."

"Of course it does," I rubbed his arm. "I - I know you kissed him."

Krel's head shot up, eyes wide and face bright red. "Wha - how -?"

"Seamus told me."

He looked even more betrayed. _"Why?"_

"As a taunt," I said. "He was going to get rid of me too."

Krel looked away again, a tear sliding down his cheek. I wiped it away.

"He never cared about me," He muttered.

"I don't know," I replied. "Maybe he did, he just . . . didn't understand it."

Krel shrugged, still glaring at the floor. I hugged him tighter.

"I care about you," I said. "You know that, right?"

He gave me a sarcastic smile: _duh_.

Another knock. It nearly took the breath right out of my lungs. Zadra was getting impatient. I was running out of time. I could do this. I could do this for Krel.

_This is worth my brother's life._

"They probably want us out soon - hey," Krel reached for my trembling hands. "What's wrong?"

I bit my lip, shaking my head as I desperately kept the tears at bay. "Nothing."

"We're going to be okay here, Aja," He promised. "We'll protect each other. Just like we always have."

I couldn't look at him. If I looked at him for another second the secret threatened to come tumbling right out of my mouth. The deal. The real reason I was in this room. Why did I want to tell him so badly?

_Because you're his sister and you'll tell him anything._

"It's going to be okay," He pulled me forward into a hug, my shoulders shaking against his. "Zadra and Varvatos are here, and I'm here, we're all here. We'll be okay as long as we're together."

I bit my lips together to keep in the sob.

"Krel?" I forced my voice to be clear. "Do you - do you ever think about what our lives would be like if Psi never happened?"

He let out a dry chuckle. "All the time."

"We'd be back with Mama and Papa."

"Back on the base."

I leaned back. "We'd be in _high school."_

"Teetering on the edge of expulsion as always."

I giggled. "We could finally try that water fountain prank."

"The one where you make it explode?"

"It's quality humor."

"Yes, besides that," Krel laughed with me. "You'd be known as the star athlete for every sport event the academy offers."

"And you'd be graduating early," I replied. "With your associates and a full ride to MIT."

"And we'd go see the stars every weekend."

I nodded, smiling as the pain in my chest grew. That life - that perfect life. The one that had disappeared the morning I banished myself from my parents memories.

"We'll never get that life back," Krel said. "Will we?"

"Maybe not," I replied. "But we have this one."

He scoffed.

"I mean it, Krel," I put my hand on his shoulder again. "We'll get through this. And twenty years from now, we'll be with Mama and Papa again, and we'll be back on the base, and you'll be getting the Nobel prize for one of your crazy inventions and I'll be in the back messing with the water fountains."

"And this will all be behind us," He said. I could almost see the hope in his eyes. "Do you really think it could happen?"

"I believe it can," I said. "We'll all be together - and we'll all go home, one day."

_One day. One day I'll come back for you. This isn't goodbye._

He just nodded, looking away again. I pulled him back into my arms, hugging him as tight as I could.

"I love you," I whispered. "No matter what happens, don't forget that."

He let out a small laugh. "Of course I wouldn't forget that. After all, I love you too."

I gripped him tighter, holding on to those words for the split second that I could. Then I leaned back, moved my hands to either sides of his face, and pulled his forehead against mine, right over my scar.

His mind was more guarded than most, I'd always known that. It was like breaking through glass. Not as easy as you would like it to be, but still doable. All it required was some pressure and -

"Aja," I heard him say. "What are you -"

I felt his hands on my arms, trying to shove me back. Trying to twist away from me.

_Stop stop stopstopstop,_ his mind screamed. _What are you doing? What are you doing? Aja, STOP._

But I held him fast. The glass around his mind shattered. And he stopped struggling.

The first memory he had of me was when we were barely toddlers.

It was the image of two year-old me climbing up his crib, leaning over the top of it and making faces at him. I pulled it out of the filing cabinet that was my little brother's mind, holding in my hands to savor it. How innocent and untouched we were then.

But not anymore.

One by one, I rifled through each drawer in Krel's filing cabinet, plucking away every memory of me riddled between them. Day by day. Piece by piece. Until there was nothing left of me to weigh him down or bind him to my side. It was a strange, unwinding sensation - something I'd never felt before. Like I was untangling us.

Krel never had an older sister. He was born and raised an only child. But all the fun he'd had, all the adventures, all the trouble he'd gotten in and out of, was with a friend. A neighbor. Someone he'd cared about as a child, but could only vaguely recall now.

Someone that didn't matter.

He'd joined the League to look for his parents, and he'd had the courage to run from them on his own. He'd found Steve and Eli by chance. He'd found Trollmarket with them. And his friends were still out there, should he ever need them.

I gathered the memories of me into a neat pile, holding them inside me for a moment. This was the last thing left of my broken family. It belonged someplace close to my brother's heart. So I sealed them in a box, and left it on top of his filing cabinet, where he would never find them, but always feel them.

It was a little part of me that he would carry with him, wherever he went, even if he didn't realize it. Reminding him that his curiosity was a gift. That he could do anything he put his mind to. That he was strong enough - brave enough - to chase the light.

The last piece I left was a piece from my mind. A simple truth for him to hold on to: he was loved. Wherever he went. Whatever he did. He was unconditionally, unapologetically loved.

_Don't forget that._

When I pulled back, Krel's eyes were staring blankly forward, in a kind of daze. His hands were still stiffly latched onto my arms. I had to pry them off.

My knees shook as I stood up from the bed, my footsteps heavy and loud in the silent room. I watched my hand turn the doorknob, but I barely felt it.

Zadra was waiting for me in the empty hall, arms crossed and face guarded. I closed the door behind me, pressing my back against it. I couldn't look at her. "It's done."

She didn't say anything back, she just took my arm, gently leading me downstairs to the front room with an open window overlooking the early morning roads. When we got there, she handed me a backpack.

"What will I need this for?" I asked.

"It is not for you," She replied.

Several minutes later, Krel entered the room behind Varvatos. His face was stern, somewhere between irritated, angry, and guarded. When his eyes landed on me, not a single hint of recognition appeared. He scrutinized me up and down instead. He'd never looked at me like that before.

It hurt so much worse than I thought it would.

"What am I doing here?" He spat to Zadra. "What even happened?"

Zadra took a measured breath. "You were abducted by goblins -"

"Yes, yes," He waved his hand. "That I remember. How did I get here?"

"The goblins gave you a lethal injection," Varvatos kept his voice perfectly even. "And then left you to drown in the river. You were lucky this young woman happened to find you before you could."

He squinted at me, folding his arms as he looked me up and down yet again. "Who are you?"

Varvatos came to stand behind me. "She is a valuable ally of ours. And now, yours."

"But why is she _here?"_

"Because she saved your life," Zadra snapped.

"And to give you this," I watched my arm hold out the backpack, questioning if it was even mine for a moment. "You're going to need it."

"What would I need that?" He looked between Zadra and Varvatos. "What is going on?"

"You're leaving," Zadra said.

"Leaving where?" He asked. "They haven't even put me back on a team."

"Leaving the League, my prince," Varvatos said. "Today."

The anger in his face melted away, blinking in shock back at them. ". . . What are you talking about?"

"We're getting you out of here," Zadra said simply. Even though it was anything but simple.

Krel glanced at the front door. "Now? Just like that?"

"Just like that."

He swallowed, still unable to believe it. I watched tears fill his eyes. "I don't -" He shook his head. _"Why?"_

Varvatos exhaled softly. "Because we owe you that much."

Krel looked completely floored. It was too good to be true. To be _real_. But it was. His eyes darted between them, something between gratitude and disbelief across his face. As if he was trying to say 'thank you' without words. When he looked at me, the look vanished.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and held out the backpack again.

"No thanks," He pushed my arm away. "Not interested."

He turned towards the door, but I caught his arm, returning his stern glare. He was leaving with this backpack one way or another, damn his stubbornness.

For a moment, I almost saw something flicker in his eyes. Something familiar. But he shook it off before it could become real.

"Who are you really?" He hissed under his breath. "Are you really one of them? You seem to have a lot more sense than that."

"It doesn't matter who I am," I shoved the backpack against his chest. "Just get out the hell of here while you still can."

Something more flashed in his eyes. Sympathy. A kind of compassion I'd seen a million times. A softness that Krel had always had inside him.

_Please, God, protect that_, I prayed, digging my fingernails into my palms. _Protect my little brother with everything you have._

He turned away from me, looking between Zadra and Varvatos as if that counted for a proper goodbye. Zadra nodded gently in reply. Varvatos gave him a soft smile. And Krel turned towards the door.

I felt the skin on my hands break open under my fingernails, watching him walk away. Out into a world that was so eager to tear him apart.

"Wait," My mouth said the word without my permission, my legs jogging over to the open door. Krel was standing on the front porch, glancing back to look at me.

"Good luck."

He looked at me for a moment, a flash of amusement in his eyes - as if some part of him still remembered the joke. But then they landed on the ridge between my brows and all amusement faded.

"You too."

Then he turned and made his way across the lawn, pulling the hood of his jacket up as he crossed the street. And disappeared into the distance.

I closed the door, hollow and empty. A part of me was gone. So many parts of me were gone. Following my little brother wherever he decided to run now.

I thought back to the prayer my parents had said over me all those years ago. The last thing they ever really said to me: _Let her know her family will never forget her_.

But they had. All of them had now. I wasn't Aja Tarron anymore. I wasn't a sister, or a daughter. I didn't know what I was anymore.

"The League is not Thurmond," Zadra said behind me. "You can be happy here."

"We will take care of you, my princess."

I could fall apart, I realized, staring into the grains of the wooden door. Here and now I could drop to my knees and scream and cry myself silly. I could lose my mind over how unfair it was. I could lose myself in the pain. And a part of me wanted to.

My eyes drifted to the open window, watching the sky blush with light. Mama and Papa's words rang in my ear as I took in the view, from my very first day at Thurmond. _The sun is rising, Aja._

But not today.

Instead, I stepped back from the door and turned around to face Zadra and Varvatos. I straightened my spine. I lifted my chin. And I borrowed Mama's voice one last time.

"I'm ready."

And I was.

**(A/N): YES THERE IS A PART 2**

**AM I GONNA POST IT SOON? HELL YEAH (believe it or not, it's actually all done and ready to go, so yeah im just gonna start doin daily updates ;))**

**but i can tell you guys that this story has been my pride and joy and i'm over the moon to share just a fraction of that with you guys!**

**Thank you all so much for joining me on this journey, it has been a pleasure *takes a bow***

**Until next time, loves! *blows kisses***


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